


Haunted

by StefiDelly



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Enchanted Forest AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StefiDelly/pseuds/StefiDelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Red Beauty in FTL AU in which Belle sets out to track and study the wolf, but inexperience costs her to collapse in dehydration, only to be revived by a certain woman in a red hood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [(repost from my tumblr) ](http://thestefidelly.tumblr.com/post/57256119244/haunted-1)
> 
> I figure this happens a few months after Red found out about the wolf thing and had to run away with Snow, but before running into Quinn and Momma Wolf. By now, Red and Snow have just been hopping from town to town without staying too long, and more often than not they just camp out in the forest and only head into a town if they really need to. This’d also be after Belle’s left Rumple’s castle but before Regina does the thing. The Mulan thing happened but didn’t end with the Regina thing.

Trees blurred by as powerful legs propelled her forward in loping strides most other animals couldn’t even hope to have a chance of outrunning.

The wind in her fur was liberating, caressing her with its welcoming touch, asking her where she’d been and why she hadn’t been around so much.

That thought stirred up frustration in the wolf.

Lips curled back to reveal sharp teeth designed for tearing flesh. Her jaw was ideal for breaking bones. Her claws could tear through skin and clothing with just enough force. Her paws could destroy most weapons. Her body could withstand impacts, punctures and gashes that would have killed lesser animals in seconds.

She was wild and fierce and deadly. The moon created a hunter and a hunter is what the wolf was meant to be.

Not some caged figment to be hidden away and ignored, treated as if she didn’t exist. Called upon only in scattered fractures for the purpose of fulfilling the most menial of tasks. Listen for this, eavesdrop on that. Take a sniff of this, take a whiff of that.

The wolf was not meant to be used in this way and she hated it. She deserved to be free. She deserved to run through the woods and follow her instincts, to live as she was meant to live and be as she was meant to be.

Rage and frustration mingled in the wolf and released themselves in the form of rumbling growls. The powerful emotions were hot and constricting and sticky and suffocating.

Somewhere beyond her line of sight, she could hear howling. It was the voice of several others. They sounded like they were free to live in the way that the moon had meant them to live. They sounded like they weren’t trapped in the half-life the wolf lived.

Gripped by the overwhelming need to find these others and be among them, the wolf changed direction and rushed towards where she thought the sound was coming from.

After blindly charging through the foliage in her search for the others, the wolf heard more howls, this time coming from the opposite direction. Releasing more growls of impatience and irritation, the wolf set off for the new location. The howls changed direction again. The wolf turned to move there. The howls came from the left. The right. Behind the wolf. In front of the wolf.

It was coming from everywhere and nowhere.

Rage boiled through the wolf’s composure. With a bellowing snarl she leaped towards the nearest living being, digging into the skin until she felt her teeth scrape bone, tightening her grip and reeling back until she felt as much as heard the crunching sound. The warmth of blood coated the wolf’s lips and dripped from her chin. Screams of pain and terror were a source of satisfaction, dulling the frustration, cooling the anger.

Several strikes of her paws elicited more screams that were music to the wolf’s ears, blocking out the taunting howls. With growls that almost sounded like low chuckles, the wolf pushed her prey further into the soil before digging in again, grabbing for another limb, pulling and jerking until more blood flowed freely, more bones broke, more skin tore open.

The fear-scent in the air and the blood splattered across her maw was a soothing aroma the wolf just couldn’t get enough of.

* * *

 

The demon wolf, they called it.

Blinking several times, Belle focused on getting one foot in front of the other. The path beneath her feet seemed to be winding and twisting, shifting in and out of focus, taunting her eyes and making her head spin.

It was said to have the strength of several bulls, the claws of a griffin, the deadly viciousness of a dragon and the merciless bloodlust of even the worst of demons conjured by the worst of black magic.

Dry swallows would only further irritate her parched throat. Belle’s focus on the constantly shifting path was disrupted by the rumble of her stomach. She regretted not double-checking the distance from the last town she visited to the next town she was heading over to.

Cold bit into the tip of her nose and most of her fingers. The green cloak was usually enough to keep her warm but it wasn’t enough anymore. Shivers wracked Belle’s body, making it all the more difficult for her to continue walking along the constantly shifting soil.

Reading books and assessing a map weren’t quite the same and Belle might have misjudged one calculation or another. Her rations had been consumed two days ago and she was already losing track of what direction she was heading. All the knowledge she’d stocked up on in regards to surviving the wilderness, determining what plants were or weren’t poisonous, how best to find water- it all flew out the window and splattered across the ground.

She couldn’t trust her memory anymore. It just kept blurring into other things and she knew this was her body scrambling to keep itself alive, prioritizing the act of staying upright and disregarding most mental processes.

Was it sunset already? Or was that just her vision growing darker and more distorted? Some distant part of Belle’s mind toyed with the idea of setting up a makeshift camp for the night but she couldn’t pin the thought down long enough to properly look at it, let alone act on it.

 _The demon wolf_. That’s what Belle had set out to learn about. It was said to have spent years –almost a decade, in fact—tormenting a village south of the Troll Bridge. Every single month. They said it was always during a full moon. They called it  _wolfstime_.

During that time, the wolf normally killed livestock, but it was also known for attacking and killing anything that got in its way. They said that if one were to try jabbing at it with spears or knives or swords or arrows, it wouldn’t matter. The beast would simply destroy the weapons attacking it like they were merely twigs.

Flickering in and out of focus, the ground continued to taunt Belle. She felt it rocking her back and forth, side to side. Maintaining her balance was an ordeal and it didn’t help that her mind kept fumbling, jumping from thought to thought but still managing to appear like a smudge before her eyes, or like murky water filtering her vision.

The crunch and rustle of leaves beneath her feet sounded like grumbling little creatures. The cold air felt like hands roaming her skin. The scattered thoughts of the wolf were hard to separate from her physical world and Belle could almost see flashes of the creature through the brown and green blobs of trees, almost hear its howl in the cold bite of the wind.

There was so much mystery and myth surrounding the wolf that Belle just  _had_  to find out how much of it was true. Two theories in particular had caught Belle’s interest in her research and preparation for this trip. (Preparation? She barely prepared herself other than research a lot then grab as much food and clothing as she could carry.)

One theory talked of  _skinwalkers_. Of beings not quite human, not quite beast, but able to shift into one or the other at will. That one intrigued her and she wondered if it was something that could be cured the way the Queen claimed any curse could be cured by true love’s kiss. If the so-called demon wolf could be cured, Belle was willing to find out how to do that.

Despite Rumplestiltskin’s cold dismissal, Belle still believed that there was always a cure. For anyone. Even him, though he may not be willing to see it.

Perhaps the same could be said for the wolf.

Another theory talked of familiars or daemons or guardians. Terminologies varied from place to place and the specifics were so assorted and contrasting, Belle couldn’t quite pin it down yet, but the gist of it was that people could form connections with animals and have that animal act upon their will. Belle liked to think that perhaps there might be just some distressed man led astray and he was using the wolf to act upon his anxieties. She likened it to the way Rumple used and abused his magic and his influence as the Dark One to act upon his own inner demons.

 _Rumple_. Why was she still thinking about him? He didn’t want to be helped and Belle couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped.

The ground lurched forward.

The wolf needed help. Its actions might be a call for help.

Or it might not be. But either way, it was a fascinating specimen that Belle couldn’t pass up the opportunity to observe and study.

The world was spinning. The ground was flying. Air rushed through Belle. The thud echoed in her ears just as her body felt the impact of hitting that taunting ground.

The wolf… it couldn’t be just a demon wolf… could it?

There had to be more to it than that.

Darkness ate at the edges of Belle’s vision. Leaves and grass and tree trunks and the sky were a murky blend of greens and blues and browns. A flash of red flickered before her eyes. Her ears kind of registered a voice that sounded distant and far away like someone talking into a pillow from the other side of the palace in a different tower from where Belle’s father told her to stay.

* * *

 

The scent caught Red’s attention while she and Snow had been in the middle of discussing the pros and cons of spending another night in the forest or visiting the nearest town to replenish their supplies. There were risk factors involved in both options and they had to weigh things out to come to the decision.

“Do you smell that?”  It was almost an automatic reaction already. Once Red noticed a scent that seemed out of place, she had difficulty concentrating on anything else.

Snow’s talk of how they stood better chances now that she’d been honing her archery skills faded into the background of Red’s awareness. “My aim’s improved so in terms of food, I think we can manage in-“ Snow stopped.

“What is it? Soldiers?” Traces of fear were in Snow’s scent, giving her away despite her tensed stance and cautious voice.

Red shook her head and took several strides away from Snow. “It’s something else.” And Snow’s scent was getting in the way.

More than four moons of running and hiding since that night had pushed Red into honing skills of her own. No matter how much she hated what she was, she couldn’t deny the advantage her senses provided when it came to maintaining her own survival as well as Snow’s.

“It’s…” Red closed her eyes and cleared her mind of the distractions that her environment provided. She heard the songs of several different birds, the squeak of a mouse somewhere behind Snow, the brief thuds of a hare hopping away somewhere to their left, the fluttering wings of a few bats that were out early. There was the scent of the trees, the scent of that mouse and that hare, and a couple of the birds that weren’t downwind. The soil and grass and dried leaves also held scents of their own. There was also that lingering scent of winter air still not completely driven away by the early beginnings of spring.

Then she found it again. The sound of rustling leaves and a shuffling, unsteady gait. It was too heavy to belong to any small mammal and the scent told her it was human. Not a soldier or anyone who might cause them harm. It was alone, actually, and Red couldn’t detect any aggression in the scent. Some fear was there. Red recognized it and knew it wasn’t the same as the uneasiness coming from Snow.

Red’s eyes snapped open. “There!”

With her target now detected, Red focused her consciousness onto it until all her senses discarded everything that wasn’t related to that one destination. The scent and unsteady movement hinted the person might be injured and in need of help. It was pulling at Red and calling to her and she  _had_  to answer it.

Barely giving Snow any warning, Red bolted forward, heading straight for the source of the scent. She wove through the trees and shrubs, pushing past leaves that tried and failed to reach for her and distract her.

The sounds got louder and the scent grew stronger, telling Red that she was getting close. She could almost taste the scent against her tongue, almost feel the person’s distress and exhaustion. Through the leaves and tree trunks distorting her view, Red could see the movement of a green shape up ahead. A cloak over a woman’s shoulders.

If only Red could just run fast enough and get there  _now_.

By the time the woman fully came into Red’s line of sight, she’d lost patience with running like a human and threw herself to the ground on all fours for the last four bounding strides, just as the woman collapsed.

Seeing the buckling legs had Red picking up her pace in an attempt to catch the woman, but it was too late. Red made do with crouching by the fallen woman’s side and inspecting her, assessing the damage, searching for some injury that might have caused this.

Without really thinking about it, Red employed her most developed sense and observed the woman’s scent, the grass and leaves in her tangled hair, the distinct breath of a dehydrated person, the faded scents of food in an empty pouch, the lack of water in the waterskin.

Those were the most distinct signs that pointed to the reason for the woman’s collapse but Red didn’t stop there and continued receiving the messages her nose was giving her. She had to be sure there was nothing else ailing this woman.

In her search for any scent of blood or festering wounds, Red noted the way the forest smells clung to the woman’s skin, clothes and hair. She had been sleeping on the ground for a few days- maybe a week. The clothing though didn’t match the typical leathery or smoky scents she usually associated with typical townsfolk clothes. There was a faint scent of something else there. It wasn’t just the earthy scents or the spilled rum not completely washed off from last week. It was something else and she just couldn’t quite place it.

“ _Red!_ ”

Snow’s voice cut through Red’s consciousness, disrupting her focus and bringing awareness to her current position. She had her hands planted on the soil on either side of the woman, nose to her throat, hair draped over her face and chest.

With a nervous gasp, Red scrambled back and away from the woman, embarrassed and fearful of how much of  _the wolf_  still held influence over her behavior, even with the red hood draped over her shoulders and the wolfstime moon still a week away.

“I-I’m sorry!” Red stammered in a nervous squeak. Her heartbeat gathered speed. Flashes of buried memories and nightmares went through Red’s mind in quick bursts, reminding her of exactly what she was.

“You didn’t hurt her.” Snow’s tone was soft and reassuring as she crouched down next to Red.  The calm, assertive aura around Snow helped calm Red’s anxiety somewhat. It didn’t eradicate it completely, but it did diminish it.

“I know you didn’t.” Maintaining that same tone, Snow looked Red in the eye. “But did you see who did?”

Between her still-racing heart and her panting, Red just barely managed to answer Snow’s question. “She’s… she’s not… injured.”

Still struggling with the sinking feelings of shame and guilt, still tormented by the flashes, Red tried to just focus on the information she’d gathered during her…  _assessment_  of the woman. “Not really. It’s more of… exhaustion.” She glanced at the ill-fitting pouch and bag next to the woman, too small to be appropriate for long-term travel. “And hunger. And thirst.”

“Will this help?” Snow brought out her waterskin and moved closer to the woman’s side. Though Snow was careful and gentle in her movements as she lifted the woman’s head and let trickles of water drip onto the woman’s cracked lips, Red still felt her heart speed up by several more notches. Her breath caught in her throat and her muscles tensed.

Anxiety stirred Red up and she could almost feel her currently nonexistent hackles rising as if the woman was  _the wolf’s_  find and Snow shouldn’t be this near to it.

Blinking a few times and shaking her head helped to clear Red’s head of those startling and disconcerting thoughts. This was a  _person_. Not some prey or spot of territory. Red didn’t want to be that kind of monster.

A cough and a groan left the woman’s lips. Her eyelashes fluttered but her eyes didn’t open. Other than shivering occasionally, she was lying still in Snow’s arms.

“We have to take her to the town  _now_.” Swallowing the nervousness and taking control of her breathing, Red put some assertiveness into her voice. She moved closer but didn’t touch the woman. “We can’t just leave her here.”

Snow bit her lip, looking torn and uncertain. “But what if Regina’s guards are there?”

“What if she  _dies_  without proper food and water?” Red countered with bared teeth, feeling a rush of concern for the woman. Not quite sure whether or not it had something to do with  _the wolf_ , what Red  _did_  feel sure of was that spending a night camping out in the forest with only questionable water and food plus the cold night air—that was  _really_  out of the question for this woman. She needed a warm bed and a proper place to recover.

There was a flash of guilt and concern in Snow’s eyes, but the doubtful expression still remained in the set of her jaw. It irritated Red more than it probably should have, but she couldn’t shake off this concern and she needed Snow to understand.

“I’ve hurt and killed more people than I can even begin to count,” Wrenched by another burst of guilt, Red heard the crack in her voice. Any last trace of strength drained out of her tone until she could only speak in a low whisper laced with desperation. “I want to actually  _save_  a life for once.”

Finally, Snow nodded.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [(repost from my tumblr) ](http://thestefidelly.tumblr.com/post/57703933615/haunted-2)
> 
>  
> 
> I feel like giving a warning that this and the next chapter are still kind of exposition-y (but Red Beauty conversations yay?). I wanna establish things first before I start shaking it up and letting hell break loose. I mean the previous chapter takes place a week before the full moon so we’ve got a few days of Red Beauty (and ~~lolthirdwheel~~ Snow) bonding before shit starts flying. (But if y’all have feedback about my pacing, I’m open to hearing it, ‘kay?) And here we go.

Voices were distant and muffled and Belle couldn’t make out the words. She was only vaguely aware of being lifted off the ground and carried by someone. The arms holding her close didn’t feel broad or masculine, instead more of lean and feminine. Whoever it was carrying her smelled like grass and the forest.

Several more drops of water were brought to her mouth and she licked at her lips but couldn’t muster the energy to swallow properly without coughing. Her tongue felt swollen and dry while her throat was raw and itchy. She hated the feeling but couldn’t stay awake long enough to focus on it.

* * *

Noise and an obvious change in scenery were the next thing Belle grew aware of. The loud chatter and boisterous laughter, accompanied by clinking glasses and fists banging on tables distinctly reminded her of an inn.

The clashing sounds rang in her ears and pounded in her head.

She managed several more swallows of water but the headache got the better of her and before she knew it, she was retching and coughing like her body was trying to vomit when there was nothing in her stomach to expel anyway.

* * *

Someone was dabbing at her face with a damp cloth and it felt soothing. Her cold, brittle fingers still couldn’t grasp any glass or waterskin properly but somehow, water still managed to arrive at her mouth and reduce the swelling of her tongue and burning of her throat.

She still couldn’t see straight and she still felt like she was bobbing and rocking on a ship or riding an unruly horse. The ground still refused to steady itself and stop taunting her.

A hand clasped hers and she held onto it, clinging to it and depending on its strength and steadiness. The hand was slightly callused, more like the hands of the servants and handmaidens in the castle than the various highborn ladies who would visit for balls and gatherings. Belle noticed long, slender fingers though, and a warmth to it that felt comforting to the touch.

The ground seemed to lessen its shifting and taunting.

It didn’t stop completely, but it was a significant improvement. Belle felt her body relax and sleep crept over to take its hold on her at last.

* * *

When she could finally regain enough of a hold on herself to really open her eyes and take in her surroundings, Belle realized she was lying on a bed, comfortable under a blanket, wearing freshly washed clothing and deprived of her cloak.

“Where…” Hearing her own voice come out low and rough, Belle licked at cracked lips with a dry tongue.

The action seemed to just make her more aware of her thirst. She tried to ignore it and the dizziness circling her head by focusing more on her environment.

She was snugly tucked in under the blanket and it felt warm and cozy after weeks of huddling and shivering under her cloak in the middle of the forest. The bed was standard- nothing like the luxurious cushions in her father’s estate or in Rumple’s castle- but after being forced to get used to the hard –and sometimes damp- ground, Belle felt comfortable and content.

As she took in the state of the bed, Belle also became aware of how it dipped to the side. Blinking a few times to clear her still bleary vision and to awaken her mind some more, Belle realized someone resting her head on the bed was what caused the unevenness.

The woman had her face tucked into the crook of her elbow and her arms were bent close to her face in a way that could almost remind Belle of a dog. It didn’t look like a particularly comfortable position, bent over as she was from the chair next to the bed. Still, the look on her face though didn’t give away any discomfort. If anything, she seemed quite at home in that position.

This initial sight of the woman wasn’t ringing any bells as far as Belle could remember but she could deduct easily enough that this person was the reason Belle was sheltered and on a warm bed instead of freezing in the forest.

Should she wake the woman to thank her or just wait?

A low rumble in the pit of Belle’s stomach reminded her of how long ago she had a real meal.

Eyes snapping open, the woman shot upwards, looked left and right and held the expression of someone startled but alert.

“Hi…?” That single word grated against Belle’s throat like trying to swallow something solid and ridged.

The surprise in the woman’s eyes had hardened into a defensive look, then softened upon focusing on Belle.

Fascination shot through Belle when she saw the intensity in the woman’s eyes. The color shifted in the light and reflected the room’s warm hues, making them seem like hazel, but when she moved closer to check on Belle, they absorbed the cooler bluish-gray of the blanket. Seeing them at a closer distance, Belle thought she could recall seeing them green when she was in the forest.

Come to think of it, there was a green tint that lightly settled over the other colors.

But as fascinating as the colors were, Belle was drawn to more than that. The woman’s eyes were set in dark circles that hinted this wasn’t her first sleepless night and the story behind that pulled at Belle like a book with an unusual title or a riveting premise. She wanted to open this book and dig into it, learn its story, understand what made it the way it is, discover exactly what it is that drew her into it in the first place.

“Good morning!” The woman’s face broke out into the widest grin Belle had ever seen, all flashing teeth and twinkling eyes. “Good to see you’re finally awake.”

With a brightness to her movements that Belle couldn’t quite find the source of, the woman grasped a glass from somewhere out of sight and handed it over. “Here’s some water.”

At the very mention of the word, Belle reacted without hesitation, taking the glass and bringing it straight to her lips. Long, deep swallows of it helped soothe the thirst and it was like her first taste of tea all over again. Like it belonged to her tongue and her throat and it was the finest taste in all the lands.

“Don’t drink too fast, you might throw up again!” The woman’s warning barely registered in Belle’s ears until the glass was empty.

An incoherent grunt was the only response Belle could make. That single glass wasn’t enough and she wished there were more. Her throat still didn’t feel like it belonged to her and her tongue still seemed to be several sizes too big.

“You were in and out of it the whole trip,” As the woman continued to speak in a concerned but conversational tone, Belle registered the voice as vaguely familiar. She couldn’t place it at first and just listened until she could. “And then you seemed to just fall into slumber after a while. We tried to get as much water back into you before you fell asleep and even a little soup, too…”

The woman shifted her weight on the chair. “But I was worried it wouldn’t be enough so I stayed again to make sure you’d be alright…”

Recognition of the voice was accompanied by a memory.

Whatever she went through last night, Belle could only recall scattered snippets of it but she was _sure_ that this woman’s voice had been a consistent companion and source of comfort through the hazy blur of yesterday afternoon and throughout the evening. It was the voice that soothed Belle with words of encouragement and reassurance through countless bouts of dizziness and the unpleasantness that came from an unsettled stomach.

This woman had been kind and generous, doing so much for someone she’d only just met and Belle felt a rush of gratitude that could almost erase the thirst and hunger. “ _Thank you_.”

The words still sounded rough and gravelly against her throat, and they weren’t quite enough to express how she felt.

With a self-conscious shrug and a dismissive wave as if to say that it was nothing, the woman instead said, “I’m Red, by the way.”

She drew closer, still smiling and eager, despite those dark circles and the hint of a harsh story just below the surface of her eyes.

Swallowing still didn’t feel normal yet, but Belle tried anyway before she answered in a voice that just didn’t sound like her own. “Belle.”

“My friend’s getting breakfast for us.” Red nodded in the direction of the door. “It some stew or gruel, I think. They said we could eat in our rooms as long as we didn’t leave a mess.”

Glancing towards the door, Belle noticed that was where her cloak was hanging, next to a red one that she recognized as what she saw coming towards her when she collapsed. Aside from that, the room was relatively bare, with just the bed, a chair and a trunk that could double as a table. Her bag for clothes and her waterskin were on top of it.

Other than the cloak, Belle didn’t see anything in the room that might belong to Red.

Observing her surroundings brought Belle’s attention to several things. One being that the sunlight coming in through the window as well as the mention of breakfast meant it was morning and she’d been shifting in and out of consciousness for most of the afternoon and all of the night. Lifting the blanket enough to be able to look down at herself, she also noted the cleanness of her clothes and that they were the spares she’d kept in her bag.

Following Belle’s line of sight and realizing her train of thought, Red began stuttering and blushing. “D-don’t worry about it.” She was shifting in her seat again. “I didn’t look at anything or touch anything more than necessary. I just didn’t think it’d be right to let you sleep on the clothes you’d vomited onto.”

The memory of retching and throwing up stew they’d tried to feed her crashed straight into Belle’s consciousness and she had to fight back the sour taste rising in her throat. Dizziness also started creeping back towards her head.

“And I also thought it’d help you get better because my Granny always told me to wash up every morning whenever I woke up feeling really awful and-“ Red stopped. Through the dizziness, Belle thought she saw a strange look pass over Red, like she’d just come to some realization. It didn’t last long and was gone from her face before Belle could really observe it. The easy smile was back like nothing ever happened.

Breathing slowly, Belle tried to will the dizziness away. A few more scattered memories of the past few hours hit her at random, feeding the disorientation. “So how long was I…?” What should she call it? Unconscious? In a daze? Out of it? Belle wasn’t sure what term would work.

“This is the first time you’ve really started talking after…” Red squinted and glanced upwards as if the answer could be derived from somewhere on the ceiling. In her dazed state, Belle felt the need to check if there actually was a calendar up there.

There wasn’t.

“…two nights and a day?” Red’s answer sounded almost like a question, then she cleared her throat and nodded. “We found you two nights ago and it took all of yesterday to get you to swallow without coughing it back up.”

Belle’s eyes widened upon realizing that what she’d recalled as one afternoon and one evening was actually much longer than that. It just got too mixed up into each other for her to be able to distinguish the events properly.

Too caught up in the shock to properly say any words of gratitude, all Belle could say was, “By the gods!”

“The first night was brutal…” Red admitted, biting her lip. “But last night wasn’t so bad. You looked more peaceful.”

This new information was still difficult to take in and Belle was having trouble concentrating from her lying down position. It made her feel too sleepy and her body seemed to hover between staying awake or drifting back to sleep.

She tried to inch herself into a more upright position and felt overwhelmed by the raised intensity of her dizziness and the heavy feeling around her head. It was like she was wearing an extremely heavy, extremely tight hat.

“Belle?” She felt her hand being taken and recognized the callused skin and slender fingers. The grasp was firm but not restricting. Again, Belle focused on it until the dizziness subsided and the room stopped moving.

“I...” Belle swallowed again, still with an awkward throat. “Thanks… for helping me.” And still, the words weren’t quite enough to cover the depth of her gratitude. She was a mess right now but if this cheerful woman with her steady hands and wide grin hadn’t been around, Belle would probably be dead.

“You looked like you were traveling a while without food or water.” Red’s observation brought attention back to the emptiness to Belle’s stomach despite whatever stew or soup she’d managed to get down last night.

Feeling sheepish about how poorly she’d estimated the distance and how insufficient her supplies had been, Belle avoided Red’s eyes. “I know… It was silly of me, not being prepared enough.”

With a serious tone she hoped wasn’t going to be tampered by her currently gravelly voice, Belle managed to look at Red and say, “And I dread to think of what may have happened had you not come to my aid.”

Another smile took over Red’s features, this time a self-conscious one as she looked down at the floor. “It was nothing…”

“It wasn’t _nothing_!” Belle sat up more fully and regretted the sudden movement when it reignited the shifting ground. Tightening her grip on Red’s hand to maintain some semblance of steadiness and balance, Belle moved back until she could lean against the wall the bed was pushed against. “Red, I’m quite certain you saved my life.”

Biting her lip and shifting position again, Red seemed to be trying to find a way to change the topic. She glanced at several spots in the room before returning her gaze to Belle.

“You’re… um…” Red squinted, bit her lip again, then said, “You’re from far off, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Belle looked down, feeling sheepish again. “I’m still…” She willed the dizziness away in between trying to explain herself.

The realization that she was still clinging to Red’s hand added to Belle’s embarrassment. She let go and dealt with a bout of nervousness that had her rambling continuously. “I’m still quite unfamiliar with the comings and goings of this area and the average distance between towns and villages. I’m also still something of a novice when it comes to traveling and adventuring.”

Hearing her own explanation felt silly and she tried to stop but her mouth kept going on as if it had taken on a mind of its own. “All the books in the world wouldn’t have been enough to save me from exhaustion or dehydration. It was as if I couldn’t think properly anymore and all the facts I’d taken in before heading out just wouldn’t come to me and I just couldn’t remember.”

“I was just going to say it was because you talked different.”

Feeling even more embarrassed, Belle pulled the blanket up to cover half her face until only her eyes and the top of head were visible.

Yet another smile was in place on Red’s face. This time one of amusement and held back laughter. The heaviness behind her eyes almost disappeared. “Don’t worry though. I could teach you a few things so you can handle yourself better next time. How’s that sound?”

Belle nodded, her voice muffled by the blanket. “I’d like that.”

“Red, stop scaring the girl and help me out.” A new voice caught Belle’s attention and she recognized it as another that had whispered to her through the haze of thirst and dizziness.

“Sorry,” Red pretty much leapt to her feet and bolted towards the door, where another woman was standing with a tray that held three bowls. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s a first.” The woman rolled her eyes while Red pushed the trunk over to the side of the bed so they could set the bowls on top of it.

Red shrugged and flashed a sheepish grin. “I was distracted?”

“Maybe we’ll have to work on that sometime.”

Belle wasn’t sure if it was still part of the effects of her ordeal or if watching the two talk to each other was really quite odd. The context of it didn’t make sense to Belle, but she refrained from interrupting them and instead just waited for them to finish.

“You’re right.” Red carried on speaking while pouring water onto Belle’s glass. “I thought I’d gotten better at it, but I still lack focus on it sometimes and-“ She stopped mid-sentence and handed the glass to Belle.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Red addressed Belle this time, “Belle, this is Snn-“ A nudge from the woman stopped Red in her tracks. The two exchanged a glance, one in which the woman raised both her eyebrows and tilted her head while Red stared in confusion for a moment then nodded when she understood.

Again, Belle wasn’t sure if they were just being odd or if she was just still very disoriented and lightheaded.

“ _Mary_.” Red continued like she’d never stopped. She gestured from her friend to Belle. “And Mary, this is Belle.”

“Pleased to meet you, Belle.” Mary spoke in a gracious tone and held out her hand. The movement looked formal and practiced.

Taking the extended hand, Belle responded with, “I’m more than just a little pleased to meet you.” She looked from Mary to Red and back. “Both of you. I’m grateful.” It still didn’t sound like enough and her voice still tampered with the sincerity she tried so hard to put into her tone. “If there’s anything I can do to repay you both-“

“Just enjoy the meal.” Mary interrupted, handing one of the bowls to Belle, as well as a spoon. “All we did was do what was right.” After making sure that another filled glass of water was as close to Belle as possible, Mary sat on the chair that Red had previously been using.

There was a brief pause where Mary seemed to realize it was the only chair and glanced at Red as if asking what to do. Belle noticed the situation and was about to move over so there was space for Red to sit on the side, but instead, she just flopped down onto the floor and seemed content there. It was as if Red didn’t mind how it would ruffle her clothes or how potentially awkward it might be to look down at her whilst speaking to her.

“And try to keep the meal down this time.” Red prodded Belle with a spoon, “I’m not yet done washing your other clothes.”

The scattered memories of it still made Belle cringe. “I… apologize for that…”

Belle fought back the nausea and focused on the bowl in front of her. It wasn’t finely made venison stew from her castle or conjured meals from Rumple, but to Belle’s deprived stomach, it might as well have been a feast in the queen’s great hall.

“Don’t worry about it,” Red’s tone was light, almost playful, and Belle thought there was a teasing gleam in her eyes. “Just concentrate on getting better, alright?”

Belle nodded and took in a spoonful of the gruel.

“If you don’t mind my asking…” Mary started speaking and Belle took another spoonful while listening. “Are you from the western kingdoms? Prince Adam’s? Lord Maurice’s, maybe?”

At the mention of her father’s name, Belle’s heart skipped a beat and she swallowed awkwardly. “Yes… I am.” It had crossed her mind that she should consider returning home but the thought of being locked up again in the name of her _safety_ kept making her hesitate. That and the possibility that they might just push through with the betrothal to Gaston if Belle returned.

“You’re familiar with the area?” Belle asked the question while pulling herself back to the present. She took another spoonful and locked her eyes on Mary.

Putting all her attention into conversing with Mary, Belle did her best to drive away thoughts of why she was exploring areas farther from her home instead of closer to it. She had her reasons and she didn’t want to dwell on it. She just wasn’t ready to go home.

“I’ve met-“ Mary paused with an uncharacteristic shift in her projected confidence. She seemed to be catching herself before she went on to say, “I’ve… er… seen some lords and ladies passing by… on… on their way to visiting other kingdoms. And I… uh… found that you somewhat reminded me of them.”

Though she wasn’t quite ready to rule out disorientation and still not being quite right yet, Belle felt more certain that Mary was hiding something. Whatever it is, she and Red both knew it and they were keeping it from Belle.

“I just thought you talked different from the people around here.” Red shrugged and slurped up her meal. “I wouldn’t know where it’s from though.”

“Yes, well…” Belle noted the difference in the ways Mary and Red approached the subject of Belle’s accent (and any other characteristics that gave away that she was foreign to this area) “Where I came from, the accent is more common.”

There were several more observations Belle could make now that food and water were starting to clear her head and make her feel less dazed and unfocused. The first being that even though Mary tried to hide it, there were several hints to the way she behaved that gave away that she had some higher upbringing as compared to Red.

It was already very clear in the way they carried themselves, even in their very positions right now. Mary sat on the chair with her back straight and her chin up. She kept her shoulders back and moved with the careful, practiced grace of someone who’d been raised and trained to watch her movements all her life. No amount of harsh living could really erase something so deeply ingrained.

In contrast, Red was comfortably seated on the floor, slurping at her food without a care, carrying herself in a way that would have earned her a long lecture had she been in Maurice’s presence.

“So… is it really far away?” Red asked, genuinely curious while Mary didn’t seem so surprised. “What was it like?”

“It’s… quite far, yes.” Belle found Red’s curiosity endearing and hoped to learn more about her during their time together. It was clear she grew up differently and Belle was drawn to that. She wanted to learn about it and breathe in the retellings and the recollections because it was so different and so fascinating. It was that engaging cover and that tantalizing premise.

“It was my home for most of my life,” Belle remembered to answer Red’s question. “There are portions of the kingdom that are quite peaceful, but others are prone to ogre attacks. There were invasions, even. But I believe there has been improvement to the situation.”

Having finished with her meal, Red was now leaning forward and watching with the intensity of someone who was listening. _Really_ listening. It was so rare for Belle to experience that kind of look directed at her that she felt her stomach flip several times while her heart sped up.

She ended up rambling again, and Red maintained that look. “It was a good place, despite the several shortcomings. But I wanted more. Circumstances changed and I was presented with the opportunity to explore.” She glossed over the part where Rumple was involved. Since gaining her freedom and independence, Belle had long-since learned that when introducing herself to new people, they preferred not to know of her association with the _Dark One_.

“It’s always been my dream to see the world.” Belle continued, “To discover new lands, learn new languages, hear new stories… live a life of adventure and… and _freedom_.” Though she’d experienced hardships her previous life could have never prepared her for –several days of hunger, several nights forced to sleep out in the cold, several odd tasks to earn money—Belle wouldn’t exchange this freedom for anything. Definitely not for another life locked up in some tower or castle.

She was finally in control of her own destiny and able to choose where she wanted to go and when to go there. Several discomforts and the occasional suffering were well worth this kind of independence.

“I take it adventure isn’t as simple as it seemed in all the tales and lore?” Mary raised an eyebrow and a knowing look was on her face. Whoever she was before had lived a much easier, more pampered life than what she was currently living now.

Though they may or may not have the same reasons for leaving that life behind, Belle felt a sense of respect for Mary, for being able to overcome the shock of how different it is and to thrive in this very separate world.

“Admittedly, yes.” Belle took another spoonful before continuing. “It’s been more difficult than I had initially anticipated, but I’ve been adjusting.” Maybe not as well as Mary, but it was adjustment nevertheless. This lapse in judgment was a really bad one that might have been fatal had Mary and Red not stepped in, but Belle was undeterred.

“Just a couple of months ago, I encountered a beast in a village to the east.” Driven by the encouraging way Red listened as well as by some need to show Mary that this was just one really badly planned trip that wasn’t like others, Belle rambled on, “My studies gave me an edge in better understanding it than most of the brutes who only wanted to hunt and kill it.”

The mere memory of it had Belle rolling here eyes at how incompetent those so-called hunters were. Mulan had been the better than all of them. She didn’t have the references Belle was drawing from, but she did have other skills. It must have been with extraordinary patience that Mulan managed track and follow the Yaoguai for so long.

“A beast?” Red tilted her head to one side and looked even more interested now.

“A Yaoguai, they called it.” Belle continued, “And if I hadn’t acted as I did, it would still be trapped in that feral body.” The memory of how the snarling beast melted away into a young man was still fresh in Belle’s mind. “The beast actually turned out to be a man who had been cursed into that form so that he couldn’t be reunited with his true love.”

“Cursed?” Red repeated, still entranced. “And he turned into a man?”

“Yes,” Belle felt warmed by how much interest Red was showing. It was as if she couldn’t believe the stories she was hearing and was desperate to know more and to be able understand it. Belle liked it. “He’s free now and searching for her with Mulan’s help. I hope they find what they’re looking for.” She added with a  wistful sigh.

The mention of true love and finding it still pulled at a tightness in Belle’s chest. She tried not to think too much about Rumple, but it _did_ cross her mind sometimes.

“You…” Red squinted, tilting her head towards Belle. “…didn’t want to hurt the beast?”

“I… I was never really interested in killing it…” Belle knew there had been some instances when her life had been threatened and she _had_ thought about killing the Yaoguai, but throughout that experience, it hadn’t been her dominant thought. “I just wanted to understand it. I wanted to learn more about it…”

“That’s…” Red paused, seemed to struggle with finding the right word before settling with, “… _interesting_.”

Belle smiled and was about to make a quip about Red’s eloquence when Mary nudged her and spoke, “You took a great risk though, in going so near to the beast, didn’t you?”

With a short laugh, Belle recalled how much running she had to do when it was charging towards her, its booming roar echoing in her ears. “It was terrifying! There were several times when I was so sure that it was going to kill me.”

Red hadn’t stopped staring. “But…?”

“But then I discovered that it was merely seeking help.” Belle said, “And upon understanding that, how could I just ignore it? I _had_ to help.”

“You should still be careful though.” Red’s tone changed when Belle least expected it. There was no more awe and wonder. It was in such a serious voice, with a hard look in Red’s eyes.

After she’d started getting used to the wide smiles and playful tone, Belle felt alarmed by this change. “Not all beasts would be so careful with you.”

Mary nudged Red.

Unnerved by the change in the room’s atmosphere, Belle noted the darkness around Red and the concern in Mary’s eyes. There was a lot these two were holding back and it was clear they didn’t really trust Belle yet, but she just couldn’t seem to be as closed as they were. Belle was willing to talk openly with them and trusted them enough to talk at length about her dreams of adventure and some past experiences.

“Perhaps you’re right.” Belle said, but didn’t stop there. She felt like she could trust them even if they had yet to trust her, so she took it upon herself to be as open as possible with them in the hopes of receiving the same from them eventually.

“But I’d like to believe that keeping an open mind goes a long way. I think anyone, even the Dark One,” Belle still made sure to refer to him by the name commonly used by all. Fondly calling him Rumple might have the opposite effect on Red and Mary. Belle wasn’t willing to drive them away just yet. “… _everyone_ has some good in them and just need someone who’s willing to give them a chance to show that they’re more than just the monster everyone believes them to be.”

Was it the lighting or were Red’s eyes unusually shiny?

Red frowned, looked away for a moment. Racing thoughts seemed to be warring for attention in her head, crowding themselves and wrecking havoc. Concern stirred up in Belle and she wanted to ask what was wrong but wasn’t sure if it would be appropriate.

Swallowing, Red turned back to face Belle. “But what about-“

Another nudge from Mary cut Red’s sentence short. “I just remembered. There’s some… business we have to settle. The innkeeper wanted to speak to us about the… the length of our stay.”

The darkness about Red was still there, and she turned to her friend with a look of frustration and a whine in her voice. “Now? Do we have t-“ She didn’t finish her sentence again, caught in the middle of another understanding that only passed between the two of them. “Oh. Right, right. Let’s go.”

Not sure where she stood in all this and if she would need to settle some fee with the innkeeper was well, Belle made to move out of bed. “Should I…?”

“No, just stay there.” When Red addressed Belle, there was a new smile in place and an attempt to lighten the mood again, but it was different. The smile looked forced and uncomfortable, hurried and uneasy. “Rest up. You’re probably not ready to go walking around so much just yet.”

“Help yourself to more water if you want.” Mary added. “Just be sure to drink slowly.”

Red started to gather up the bowls, leaving only the pitcher of water and Belle’s glass. Mary helped clean up before leading the way to the door and opening it for Red, who looked over her shoulder to say, “We’ll see you soon.”

Feeling confused and disoriented again, Belle watched the door close and wondered how much longer before she would stop feeling so out of it.

* * *

“I don’t think we should be letting ourselves get too attached.”

“But she seems so nice!” Red heard the whine in her own voice. She closed her mouth and looked away. After they’d put away the tray and bowls, Snow had pulled Red aside and practically cornered her.

Admittedly, Snow was right and Red shouldn’t be getting so invested in this, but she couldn’t help it. Belle’s open-mindedness was pulling at Red, feeding her with such insane thoughts as the option of trusting her with a huge secret.

Voice lowered to an urgent whisper, Snow snapped Red out of the fantasy before it could even really begin. “And we’re wanted fugitives!”

The reality check was a blunt reminder that this secret Red actually considered sharing wasn’t _just_ a huge secret. It was a _dangerous_ secret. “And I’m still a _monster_.” Bitterness latched onto Red’s tone as she continued to stare at the wall, feeling her eyes start to sting while avoiding Snow’s.

It wouldn’t matter that Belle was so open-minded. It wouldn’t matter if Belle was willing to give the wolf a chance. The wolf would kill her in a heartbeat. Tear into her throat and rip her limb from limb until her screams faded away.

With a shudder, Red recalled flashes of her nightmares.

Running through the woods, teeth bared, low growls, blood spilled, screams of the hunting parties being murdered, distant howls, Peter’s pleas.

A hand on her shoulder drew Red’s attention back to the present. Blinking several times to clear her eyes, she looked at Snow and saw the concern and sincerity that helped Red keep running when all she wanted to do was throw herself to the ground and wail in grief. “You are _not_ a monster.”

It was sweet and it soothed the aches to a certain extent, but Red could never fully believe it. “I _am_.”

Only a monster would do to Peter what Red did. Only a monster would chain up the boy they loved so he wouldn’t be able to get away when it was time to feast. Only a monster would ignore the begging and the screaming and the calls of her name.

“But Snow…” Sensing that this might turn into a pointless discussion of Snow trying to convince Red otherwise, she veered the conversation away from there and back to the subject of Belle. “We can’t leave her yet.”

Snow was quiet and searched Red’s face for a moment, as if giving her the opportunity to talk about Peter or the wolf or that night if that was what she wanted to talk about.

When Red didn’t elaborate, Snow spoke, “I know it’ll be hard to leave her after we spent so much time caring for her, but this is _dangerous_.” Snow stopped when she noticed that the tension this topic stirred up had caused her to start raising her voice.

Moving closer, Snow made sure to use whispers when she started speaking again. “If we dawdle too much, someone might recognize us. We’re on _wanted_ posters.” With a shrug, Snow added, “Granted, they’ve put a higher bounty on me than you…”

“You do have the _Queen_ on your trail after all.” The only people that might be after Red were towns and villages around the valleys and fields where she was born. In fact there had only been one or two actual posters of Red. Rumors and gossip still couldn’t decide if Red had been the killer or just another victim. The only thing that was certain was that people were on the lookout for the wolf and as long as Red kept the hood on, the wolf was as good as gone.

The fact remained that Red wasn’t wanted across the kingdoms like Snow was. Though given how Snow’s crimes were fake and nonexistent while Red’s were completely real and completely evil, she was the one who should be wanted and hunted by all.

Red deserved it and Snow didn’t.

“But rumors of you spread fast.” Snow was speaking again, regaining Red’s attention. “Last night, I heard another variation of-“

“ _Please_.” Red interrupted, shaking her head. “Just… stop there. I don’t want to hear it.” She deserved to be hunted down and she deserved all the fear and all the hate. She deserved to have mobs coming after her with torches and silver.

But she couldn’t stand being reminded of what happened to Peter like that. There were different stories popping up, a tweaked detail here or there, a few had suspected that it was her, others were certain that the wolf killed her first and devoured her before turning upon Peter.

For others, it was becoming a legend, an exciting story to tell. They would flourish it with gory details and enhance their performance with raised voices and dramatic gestures. For some, it wouldn’t matter that Peter was a person. What mattered was how exciting they could make a tale and how well they could deliver it over long nights of rum and storytelling.

“I’m sorry.” It sounded sincere, and there was regret clear in Snow’s voice for bringing it up.

Blinking several more times, Red took a deep breath before saying, “We can’t stay too long.”

Snow’s head bobbed vigorously. “We really can not.”

“But we can’t leave her yet either.”

A stomp of her foot and another rise in pitch to her voice broke Snow’s usual composure. “ _Red_!”

“Would you really be able to leave her?” Red countered. She nodded towards the door. “Did you see how her hands kept shaking? Did you see how she kept stopping to stare at something like she was trying not to get dizzy?”

That finally got through to Snow. She bit her lip and looked down.

“Also,” Red took a step towards Snow. “Her accent is pretty and all, but did you hear how scratchy her voice still is?”

Finally, Snow said, “She’s still very pale.”

Thrilled that Snow was at last putting aside the fear of the Queen’s guards, Red watched Snow’s brow furrow as she thought more about Belle’s still unwell state and less about the risks of staying. “And when we were cleaning up, my hand grazed hers. She was still cold.”

Red resisted the urge to throw her hands up in thanks to the gods. “So do you still think we can just leave her like that?”

“We can’t.” Snow sighed. “You’re right.”

“At least one more night.” Red touched Snow’s arm, knowing she still needed reassurance.

The guards that were after Snow _were_ a genuine cause for concern. There was no telling what the queen was going to do once she had Snow in captivity, but for sure it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Red couldn’t blame Snow for feeling so apprehensive and the least Red could do was assure her friend. “We’ll mingle outside as little as possible and then tomorrow, we’ll see how she is and decide from there.”

Taking Red’s hand, Snow looked her straight in the eye. “We are taking an enormous risk, Red. And we drew enough attention to ourselves as it is when we walked in carrying her and leaving a mess every time we put her down.”

“She’s alive now.” That’s what mattered.

Ensuring that Belle would be okay wasn’t going to bring back Peter or console the families of all the hunting parties Red murdered. But at least it was a step towards being someone who saved people instead of being someone who took pleasure in spilling blood left and right. “And when she feels better, all that worrying over her and taking care of her and those two long nights… it’ll be worth it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m introducing a new character here, one that isn’t part of any fairy tale, but will play a part in this story and will gain some importance later on. There's a reason for his appearance. ;)

With Red and Mary outside making their arrangements, Belle was left alone in her room, thoughts drifting from here to there and back. The map she’d been referring to was drenched when she’d gotten caught out in the rain several days ago. If she wanted to continue with her quest, she’d need to acquire a new map. Twinges of frustration accompanied the thought of having to fill it up with her notes all over again.

Belle made a mental note to ask Red and Mary about where to get one later. She also had to think of a better way to keep it so there wouldn’t be a repeat of that. Maybe a scroll case would be good. It would be hardier than the cloth-bundled method she’d been using with her books.

Thought of the books stirred up a new train of thought.

Belle finished the last of the water in the pitcher.

If there was anything she really and truly missed about Rumple’s castle (besides Rumple himself) it would be the library. It held row upon row, shelf upon shelf, hallway upon hallway of books. The whole place was a winding maze of knowledge and tales and adventure and drama and fantasy and history and the very memory of it tightened her chest.

Unsteady hands shook the pitcher to make sure it was empty.

She longed to go back there one day, immerse herself in the different worlds and just relish the feeling of it.

After experiencing that haven, Belle couldn’t truly be content with the maximum of two or three books she had to live with now. In another world, having a lot of references on hand would be useful if she were stuck trying to sort out a problem, but dragging along a trunkful of books everywhere she went was just too impractical for adventuring.

It was a reality she had to live with and she still hadn’t gotten used to it. Every time she had to part with a book in a trade for another, it felt like giving away a treasured gem or maybe even a valued horse or a child. The heartbreak of losing the previous book would be at war with the thrill of receiving the next book and Belle would just feel this swirling rush of emotional turmoil.

Squinting at the room, Belle got a better sense of where her things were. The bag for clothes and food was on the floor next to her bed but the bag where she kept her books was hanging from the door. It was almost covered by the cloaks.

Belle moved to the edge of the bed. Her head was spinning and heavy but she was sure that the comfort her books provided would help soothe her.

There was a really good one she got after the encounter with the Yaoguai- it was about the eastern lands. It described the population, narrated the history of the several ruling emperors and lords, shared bits and pieces of the culture. It was tricky to read at some parts, but Belle had successfully translated it with the help of a dictionary she’d gotten in preparation for her study of the Yaoguai.

She had gotten so engrossed in it once she got the hang of translating it. Every page pieced together a puzzle that made up a part of who Mulan was and a part of what the Yaoguai curse came from.

A frustrated grumble rubbed itself against Belle’s throat.

She didn’t have that book anymore. She traded it in for a book that was somewhere between a catalogue of this area’s wildlife and a compilation of legendary beasts and the occasional myth. Belle hadn’t finished sorting through it yet but she found a few gems on it about typical wolf behavior and the  _demon wolf’s_  behavior.

But that book about the Eastern cultures… the loss of it still felt like an infected wound that had yet to heal.

On top of that, it made her miss Mulan’s company. The warrior was quiet and kept to herself (even avoided Belle throughout most of that venture) but left an impact nevertheless. Mulan saved Belle and even though they had different ways of viewing and approaching things, she was respected instead of put down.

Instances where Belle was treated like that- listened to and seen as an equal- were few and far between.

And the way Red listened with that intensity? Belle liked it very much and hoped they wouldn’t part soon because it was a good feeling that could cause her to almost forget about how dizzy she was.

Leaning against the wall, Belle cursed the ground for being so unsteady and hated her head for making her feel so sleepy and disoriented. (She couldn’t even keep track of what books were currently in her inventory! Since when did that ever happen?) Belle needed focus and she wanted her books but her thoughts kept taking her on random trails and winding paths and she kept having to trace her steps back to the right track and it was so difficult to set herself straight and-

“ _What are you doing_?” An exclamation shot through Belle’s head like an arrow.

From her position, practically hugging the wall, Belle blinked a few times and managed to make out Red’s approaching silhouette. “Uhh?”

“Belle?” She felt an arm going around her waist and guiding her away from the wall until she was leaning against a lean body instead. “What happened? There’s a chamber pot in the corner if you were trying to-”

Belle shook her head.

Bad idea. The ground moved more violently. It shoved her closer to Red, the only source of steadiness right now. The anchor.

A hand was clasping hers again. Belle squeezed it until she felt steadier, clearer, more at home. She blinked a few more times. Her vision improved and her head didn’t feel like it was encased in a bulky, constricting helmet anymore. It was more of a tight turban now. The shift gave Belle the burst of energy she needed to make her wishes known.

“Let’s go out.” Belle chirped the words, bubbling with excitement that wrestled the dizziness down and pinned it there. The ground went from lurching side to side to softly bobbing once in a while.

Red tensed. “Are you serious about that?”

Stopping in her tracks and tensing her body, Belle held her ground when she realized she was being guided back to the bed. “Yes! Let’s get out of this room.”

“Belle…” Red’s voice sounded like a low whine.

Belle wanted to explain how staying in this room, just lying around, was making her feel sleepy and unfocused. It was frustrating. She didn’t like how her thoughts were such a jumble when normally, she was used to thinking along more linear patterns. She didn’t like feeling trapped in one room by herself with just thoughts and memories for company because it was too much like the tower in her father’s estate or the dungeon in Rumple’s castle.

She needed space and air. She needed more than just four walls. She needed conversation and stimulation. There were her books to get her mind working but it required concentration and focused eyes- both of which she didn’t quite have yet. The space and business of the inn beyond this room might help clear her head.

Belle needed that.

That was the long explanation she was supposed to give but instead what came out was, “Red, I’m serious about this! Let’s go!” She looked up at Red and hoped maybe eye contact would deliver a clearer answer.

Red looked torn. Her eyes darted to the side a few times before focusing on Belle. There was uncertainty, hesitation and worry.

“Please?” Belle found herself pouting in a way that had earned her some perks from Rumple during her stay with him.

A little whimpering sound came from Red as she bit her lip and shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Uh…”

Belle squeezed Red’s hand. Being in this room was like being in some hurricane that kept throwing her back and forth and all around in shifting circles that kept changing their course. She needed to be outside. She just knew it would help. She  _hoped_  it would.

“Alright.” Red finally conceded. “But we’re not leaving the inn. You can barely stand as it is.”

She hesitated and touched her red cloak before glancing at the window then seemed to make up her mind with a subtle shake of her head (one so subtle Belle might as well have imagined it amidst the swirling thoughts and shifting focus of her mind). What Belle  _could_  be sure of though was Red moving to open the door.

“ _Yess_!” A little bounce of triumph jolted Belle and nearly tipped her over. The ground threatened to swallow her up again. Her hand tightened its hold on its anchor.

 Belle bottled up the excitement as best she could and resisted the urge to bolt out of the room the moment Red opened the door wide. The headache had yet to leave and Belle’s legs still felt like they didn’t belong to her. The last thing she should be doing was running around, let alone jumping around.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Red warned in a worried, almost nagging tone. The concern was endearing. Belle stroked the back of Red’s hand as a response.

It was a short hallway to the area where the bar and the tables were kept. (Though the accuracy was still questionable) Belle counted three or four other rooms besides her own. Mary and Red probably shared one nearby.

As short as the walk was, Belle had to lean against Red the whole way and by the time they found their seats in an isolated corner of the inn, Belle’s legs were trembling and her eyes were bleary. Her skin felt cold on the outside and hot on the inside.

“Belle? Belle, what’s wrong?” Red leaned across the table, voice raised several pitches by worry.

From this minimized distance, Belle noticed the concern in Red’s eyes. It was warm and protective and genuine. It was also quite green- like a clearing in the forest with a pond in the middle and several fish darting in the shallows. That was the kind of green Belle associated it with. A friendly, peaceful kind of green that mingled with the blues of sky and water.

“Belle?”

Her mind just wouldn’t stop wandering.

Belle blinked and tried to steady her panting. “Just out of breath. I’m fine.”

“You sure? I could take you back to-“

“ _No_.” That shook off most of the haze. Belle spoke with a firmness to her tone that hadn’t been there all morning. She swallowed, controlled her breathing and made eye contact with Red. “I’m fine here. It’s better here.”

It  _was_.

It was morning- the drunk laughter and dramatic storytelling that Belle normally associated with inns was absent. There were only a few people around and they didn’t really mingle. As far as Belle could see, they kept to themselves and focused on their meals.

There was none of the noise that she distinctly remembered had been pounding in her head yesterday (or last night? Or last last night?). It was relatively quiet and it was perfect.

Belle liked the space and the air and the spread out walls and the presence of just a few other people. She felt safer, more at home here than in her room. It helped.

“I feel better.” She straightened her back, suddenly aware of how poor her posture had been. Belle shifted her position until she had her back straight but her elbows leaning against the table. It was a little stiffer than a common person, but more relaxed than any lady. Belle had worked to develop the position so she didn’t stand out so much. It did wonders on lowering the prices they gave her when she rented a room or bought food. Sitting like a lady got her twice the price than if she sat like a common person.

“You  _look_  better.” Red noted in a considerably more relaxed voice. “What was it? Was something wrong with the room?”

“No, it’s not that.” Belle resisted the urge to shake her head, knowing what it would do to her recently acquired focus. “I just had this feeling that a more open space would help clear my head.” With a glance at the nearly empty inn, she added, “And it did help to know that we’re after the breakfast rush. This quiet feels kind of nice.”

“So… did you want to sit quietly?” Red tilted her head to the side and a confused expression riddled her features like she found the thought strange but was trying not to judge it. “Or read? I saw you had some books in your bag. Did you want to-“

“No, I’d like to talk.” Belle said, “If you don’t mind.” Just as the words left her mouth, she realized how awkward they might have sounded. Like she had called Red in for the sake of questioning her.

Red fumbled with her hands on the table. “About… what?”

“Tell me… about… yourself…?” This was not turning out as smoothly as Belle would have liked. She realized then that it had been a while since the last time she’d made conversation with the same person for this long. It was impressive how she got through this morning. Apparently, her luck was running out.

“Me?” Red’s head tilted to the other side this time. “Really?”

“Perhaps?” At this rate, Belle was starting to think she might have been better off just staying in the room.  “I mean… if… that is what you would like to do.”

Scrunching up her face in an expression that hovered between utterly confused and smiling politely (with the corner of her lip pulled up lopsidedly), Red gave her uncertain response. “What would…  _you_  like to do…?”

This was not like the rehearsed conversations she’d memorized in her father’s estate where it was a simple matter of remaining silent unless spoken to and if required to make conversation, merely ask about the town’s state of affairs or the marital status of the most attractive lord or knight within the vicinity.

Belle couldn’t figure out how to answer because she would have given anything for something to hide in right now. Maybe a shell like turtles and snails had the fortune of hiding in during such a situation as this.

For a moment that just seemed to drag on, they were both quiet and Belle felt like she was drowning. Looking to Red for help didn’t produce any results. Red almost looked as lost as Belle did.

Unable to take the silence any longer, Belle threw out any last semblance of poise, slouching unto the table and burying her face in her hands. “Right now I think I’d like to hide under the table and bury my head beneath the floorboards.”

That elicited a laugh from Red. It sent heat rushing through Belle’s cheeks.

Until Red said, “I do, too.”

At least she knew she wasn’t the only one failing miserably at this. Belle looked up from her hands and tried to brush her hair back with her fingers. “I’m… I think I’m out of practice at this.”

Red nodded, “The same goes for me. I haven’t been talking much to anyone else for a while. Just my friend.”

At least Red had Mary. Belle just had her books.

As great as it was to immerse herself in the worlds within the pages, books could only take Belle so far when it came to activities like this. Right now, they were already nearing another awkward silence.

In a fit of mild panic, Belle blurted out the first question that came to mind. “What’s Mary doing?”

“Who?”A blank look took shape on Red’s face. “ _Ohhh_!” Then her eyes widened and she seemed to shake herself awake. “She’s in… the woods. Practicing archery. Helps her feel safer.”

Again, Belle was struck by the sense that there was more going on than they were letting on. As it were, she was almost certain that Mary wasn’t the woman’s real name. The way Red was behaving gave away a few more clues. She was shifting her weight again, talking in clipped fragments and looking as if she wasn’t sure how much information she was supposed to be divulging. The hesitation and uncertainty was clear in her expression.

Aware of the fact that they didn’t really trust her yet, Belle decided against questioning Red, instead opting to push the conversation forward. “Archery? That’s something I’d like to try sometime, actually.”

“I’ve tried it and it doesn’t quite work for me.” Red shrugged, “I prefer fighting up close, I guess.”

The comment brought Belle’s thoughts back to her previous adventures. “I spent too much time running from the Yaoguai to really fight it so I can’t say I’m aware of my fighting style yet.” It was something she would like to discover though. No great story would be complete without a valiant protagonist with their trusty weapon on hand. Different heroes and heroines preferred different weapons. Belle was hoping to one day figure out which was hers.

“Only thing I’m sure of for now is that I’m awkward with swords.” Belle continued, recalling the heavy one Mulan had leant her. “It was too weighty for me to wield comfortably. I preferred the lightness of a dagger.”

At the mention of that, Belle recalled a silver dagger she’d worked hard to get a hold of the moment she discovered rumors (and some still-questionable documentation) that claimed the wolf had a weakness to silver. It was probably still somewhere among her things. Belle made a mental note to check on it later. She usually kept it wrapped up and buried deep into her clothes bag. The glint might catch a thief’s eye and that was the last thing Belle needed.

“I noticed you had a dagger on you when we found you.” Red nodded. It was probably the other dagger that Red was referring to. One that Belle kept at her hip (and naively thought would be enough against the Yaoguai).

Belle tried to think of when she last saw that dagger and could vaguely recall seeing it hanging on the door by her book bag. That was another thing she should check on later.

“I think I like daggers, too.” Red said, “They feel more practical than swords or bows. Like extensions of your hands.”

There was a glint in Red’s eyes as she spoke, and she rolled her shoulders forward, hands raised from the table, fingers tensed like they were to be used in raking motions akin to claws.

It was brief and didn’t last long. Red blinked a few times and relaxed her shoulders. Her voice was softer and less certain, drained of the eagerness it previously held. “Not that I’m… very familiar with it yet. Haven’t practiced much.”

 “I’m… not too skilled at it yet either.” Belle admitted. She watched Red for more of those odd reactions and shifts. It was an intriguing quirk and like yet another preview page of chapters she had yet to read. “Maybe we could practice sometime?”

Belle said it just as much to prompt Red out of the uneasy quiet as to estimate how long they might be sharing each others’ company. Red  _did_  say she would give Belle some adventuring tips sometime. Whether or not that was an empty promise had yet to be determined but Belle liked to give her the benefit of a doubt.

“We could.” Red brightened and nodded her head. “If you’re feeling better tomorrow I think we could head out. I’ll also give you those tips I promised.”

The words sent a thrill through Belle. Not only did Red remember without having to be reminded, she sounded ready and willing to push through with it. Belle felt excited by the very thought of going on a trek through the forest with Red.

Something must have given away Belle’s excitement because Red was laughing when she said, “Calm down, you little adventurer. We still have to see if you’re well enough tomorrow.”

“Yes, yes. We’ll see.” Belle felt like an excitable child, nodding her head vigorously and flailing her hands.

“What else do you like to do?” An amused smirk at her lips, Red raised an eyebrow and leaned forward across the table. The look in her eyes seemed genuinely curious.

And it sounded so natural, too. Belle felt a twinge of envy and had to take a moment to silently curse herself for not being able to ask that kind of question as easily as Red did.

“I…” Belle finally remembered to answer and not leave Red hanging. “I do love books.” And the answer still came off sounding off and awkward.

“I figured.” Red let out a soft, short laugh that sounded less like a jeer and more like innocent amusement. “I don’t know anyone who drags books along when they go on trips and-“

Eyes widening, Red went stiff. “ _Ohhh_!” She snapped her fingers and leaned back against the chair. “It makes sense now!” Further confusing Belle, Red gave herself a bop on the head. “Silly how I hadn’t made the connection sooner.  _That’s_  what I smelled on you when-“

“ _What_?” Belle had noticed early on that Red had some odd quirks but this was the most bizarre by far. A paragraph set somewhere in the middle of the book, requiring knowledge of previous pages to be fully comprehended.

“Nothing.” Red’s smile was sheepish and a little uncomfortable. “I-I think I could like books, too. I just—I just don’t read much. Didn’t have time for it.” Caught up in distress Belle didn’t understand the source of, Red began rambling. “Maybe early on I had time to read a little. Then I got older and suddenly had to do more and more chores. Granny kept me busy taking care of the chickens and the sheep and the… other things. The plants and things. She also had me carry water from the well.”

This was the history Belle had been interested to learn more about and she leaned forward without interrupting. Red had listened intently whenever Belle rambled and she was willing to do the same in return. It was fascinating, after all. This was a life that was the opposite of hers.

“There were even some days when she…” Red lifted her hand up and raised her voice dramatically, “I  _swear_  by all the gods, it was like she was doubling my workload every month.” Continuing on her rant, Red punctuated certain details with waves of her hands. “Some days it was like she made sure I could barely move by nightfall so that when it was time to sleep, I’d just collapse and not move at all and…”

Trailing off again, Red got quiet as some new realization hit her. Belle recognized that look. It was identical to another one earlier this morning, also related to her grandmother.

The mixed expression of clarity and pain was concerning but Belle knew better than to push buttons she didn’t have the right to press just yet. Instead, she gave a more gentle prompt, “I take it you lived with your grandmother?”

“She… she raised me.” Red smiled. The expression didn’t leave entirely, but it softened into a more fond, nostalgic one compared to the wounded one. “I don’t remember ever having any other parents… She said they died when I was very young.”

Shrugging and trying to laugh off the seriousness of the conversation, Red added, “I never felt like I needed any other parent though. She was more than enough and she was great to me.”

As tempting as it was to ask more questions and learn more about who Red was, Belle knew too much of an interrogation would just cause upset. As it was, the bright eyes and wide grins were being replaced by nostalgic half-smiles and distant eyes.

“I didn’t quite grow up with my parents either.” Belle shifted the direction of the conversation and it seemed to ease Red. “Not in the same way though. What I mean to say is…” Belle hesitated for a moment, to piece together how best to say it without making it sound like too much information or petty problems.

“I never knew my mother. Passed away as she was bringing me into this world.” Belle said, “And my father? He was always busy with his…” Another moment of hesitation. “His work.” With a twinge of mild guilt, Belle realized she wasn’t being as honest as she thought she was being. There were things to hold back as well. Giving away that she was Lord Maurice’s daughter didn’t have the level of risk that revealing her connection to the  _Dark One_  did, but it was something to be careful about nevertheless.

Catching herself when she realized she was thinking too hard, Belle continued on a lighter note. “He kept me in my room to keep me safe and I hated it. I ran off every chance I got, only to be dragged back home caked in mud but grinning ear to ear.” The laugh that followed came naturally as she recalled the memory with fondness. Her father was livid and her handmaidens prayed to the gods for Belle to be magically cleaned by their power because only mischievous sprites could create a mess of that magnitude.

Red was laughing along and shared her own anecdote, “I had more than my fair share of coming home muddy, too. Granny would make me stand by the well while she drenched me clean because I was  _not_  allowed to get mud into her cottage.”

“Amazing how children manage to filthy themselves if given enough time.”

Nodding and grinning, Red added, “I managed to get myself all filthy even when it was in the middle of winter. Then she’d use ice and snow to clean me off.” More laughter followed this and Belle giggled at the image of Red as a child, shivering and pouting next to a well while an older woman threw snow over her.

After a while though, the laughter slowed and Belle noticed the dark tint behind Red’s eyes had became prominent again as some ghost in her past came to remind her of its presence.

Quick to notice that, Belle shifted the conversation back to lighter and more entertaining stories. As their talk progressed, Belle found herself getting something of a grasp on reading Red’s face, noting when something was starting to take her thoughts down dark roads and when her eyes were clear enough to match the wide grins that worked so naturally on her lips.

Before Belle knew it, she and Red were spending hours talking to each other, exchanging childhood stories and laughing at each other in between ordering more water and even a cup of hot tea that Red had never tried before (and Belle insisted she should, only for Red to curl her lips and look as if the taste was completely strange to her and her mouth didn’t know how to respond to it).

By the time Belle noticed the noise of a crowd, it was already evening.

She was hungry from having a measly lunch and thirsty from talking so long (despite the water Red kept making sure was replenished, the more they talked).

But hunger and thirst aside, Belle felt clearer now than ever before. Her thoughts didn’t feel so jumbled and lost. She was happy with herself for carrying on conversation this long and avoiding disaster for the most part. (Not including the awkward silences of earlier on.)

The question of whether or not Mary was going to join them was waved off and Red acted unconcerned, saying this was what they usually did. Pay for the room and spend most of the day outside, only going in for the evening. To Belle, it sounded like an exciting life and she hoped they wouldn’t be parting so soon.

They ordered dinner and after some hesitation, rum to share. Red talked more about herself and Mary (and still seemed to trip over the name every so often). Red said they would normally pay for the room in the form of rabbits, squirrel or fowl. It was a good deal- they got a room and the innkeeper got food to cook and serve without having to hire some hunter or butcher for it.

Then the men several tables away started telling stories and Belle couldn’t help overhearing.

“Ever hear ‘bout the wolf down south?” Just the mention of a wolf had been what caught Belle’s attention. Whether or not it was  _the_   _wolf_  she was looking for had yet to be determined but it was reason enough to stop and listen. That wolf was the whole reason she’d set off in this direction and any information she could get would be helpful to her quest. “The beast would eat livestock and kill men like it were nuthin’.”

The story Red was telling had not yet finished, “So when she got the arrows, we-“

“Red, wait.” Belle interrupted in as quiet and polite a tone as she could manage. This sounded like it just might be what she was looking for and she couldn’t afford to miss out on the story.

“But ye know something, boys?” The storyteller’s voice lowered to a controversial whisper. “I’m thinking it ain’t just no wolf. Might have someone helping it. But me? I think it’s some shape-changing monster.”

This  _was_  it! They were talking about exactly the wolf Belle was looking for! Not bothering to hide her excitement, Belle leaned towards the men’s table with her head tilted in their direction.

“Belle?” Red’s voice was a whisper.

“I think this is about the wolf I came here to study.” Belle rushed out a quick explanation, patted Red’s hand and went back to listening to the man.

“The… what?” Now, it almost sounded like a whimper.

The man was about to start narrating something the wolf did that fed the theory that it might be a shape-shifter. Belle couldn’t afford to miss it. She turned to give Red a brief smile and said, “I’ll explain more later, I promise.”

“Most of the men it killed were bloodied up hunting parties but there was one and this one’s real interesting.” As the man spoke, several people seemed to wander closer to the table, intrigued by the story. “Heard this from me mate last night and he comes from real nearby the village where it happened so I knows it’s true.”

Belle turned her chair so she was facing the table. The storyteller’s eyes gleamed in the flickering light of the candle in front of him. With a carefully timed pause preceding the start of his tale, he took a swig from a half-empty bottle.

“Was a lad- more than a boy but hardly a man yet- was a blacksmith’s son.” Someone coughed from the opposite end of the inn. With an irritable roll of his eyes, the storyteller continued. “He was the last victim the wolf killed before it disappeared.”

“How’d it kill the guy? What was special about it?” It was an eager voice Belle didn’t see the source of, but she pictured someone her age or younger.

The questions seemed to fire up the storyteller. He puffed out his chest, relishing the interest of his listeners. “Night of the full moon, he and his lover –a pretty thing—set out to meet in the forest, do wot couples do.” Scattered chuckles followed this. Belle drew closer, having never heard of this version of the tale before.

“I…” Red was mumbling something and Belle didn’t hear it.

“Twas when the village started hearing the howling and the screaming that they went in to finds out wot were happening. And ye know wot they seen? There was chains and ropes all bloodied up.”

Someone was breathing heavily next to Belle.

“And it looked like the lad were tied up when the wolf had it. He didn’t stand a chance against it.”

The breathing grew more ragged.

“What happened to the girl?” Someone from the other end of the table threw out the question.

With a shrug, the storyteller said, “Never found. Twas like the wolf took her with it. Kept her as a trophy after making her watch her man get eaten, that’s my guess.”

There was a moment of stunned silence as people thought about the implications of those words and went through several of their own images.

The quiet was interrupted by the sound of a chair clattering backwards as someone stood up abruptly.

It was Red- pale and trembling as if she’d just seen a ghost or encountered the very wolf they were talking about. “I-I have to… I just need to…” She stuttered and stumbled over her excuse while retreating from the table.

“Red, are you alright?” Concern pulled all of Belle’s attention back to Red. The talk of theories and the exchange of reactions at the other table were fading into the background. This was a more immediate concern.

“I’m fine.” The obvious lie held no conviction as Red staggered towards the door, Belle following and trying to stop her. “Just… I’m fine.”

Reaching for Red’s hand, Belle managed to get the woman’s attention and turn her around. “What’s the matter?” Up close, the mangled combination of pain and fear was clear in Red’s wide eyes. She looked cornered and tense like a deer just seconds away from springing into a gallop.

In between her ragged, heavy breathing, Red took several more steps back, eyes darting around the room. “I’m- I just—I need some air.”

There was that darkness again, this time breaking the surface of Red’s eyes and showing itself to be pain and demons all tied to a past that wrapped itself around her and kept her in its clutches.

“I’ll be fine.” Red’s stiff smile was accompanied by a pull of her hand, jerking it free from Belle’s grasp. “Don’t worry.”

Before Belle could react, Red had burst out of the doors and bolted into the forest, faster than anyone Belle had ever seen before.

She made a move to try following but was stopped by a hand grasping her arm.

Alarm rushed through Belle. Her arms tensed as she went through several possible scenarios—one of her father’s men had found her; Gaston had come for her; Rumple was still angry about what she did (or tried to do); people who thought she was a threat because of her connection to Rumple; a dangerous drunk man.

What followed was none of the above. A low, rumbling voice asking, “Ye likes hearing ‘bout the wolf?”

Keeping her guard up but letting the initial panic cool down, Belle turned to see who it was.

The man wasn’t anyone Belle recognized. His hair and his short beard were dark and wavy, set on the face of someone who’d seen and lived through several harsh experiences. From the look of him, Belle estimated that he was roughly her father’s age.

“I knows a few things about it.” The smile the man gave was friendly enough as he released Belle’s arm and gestured for her to sit across him. “Name’s Renard.”

“Belle.” After one more glance towards the doors, Belle took the offered seat. The lightheadedness was starting to come back (and maybe accepting the rum Red offered hadn’t been such a great idea after all). Maybe she was better off sitting and staying here instead of blindly wandering around in the woods looking for someone who probably didn’t want to be found.

“I hears it only comes out on the night of the full moon.” Renard took a sip from his mug, “They call it-“

“Wolfstime.” Belle nodded, starting to feel eager despite herself. “And it’s consistently been a threat every consecutive month for the past decade or so.”

“Ye done your studies on it, I see.” Renard’s chuckle sounded somewhere between amused and approving. The brief glance he threw towards the chattering men at the other table seemed to be of disdain. “Not like them. They barely knows what they talking ‘bout.”

Though still a little guarded, Belle felt more and more drawn into this. She was just about ready to praise the gods for her good fortune if this man turned out to be someone who knew real information about the wolf.

“Ye hear it’s been a problem for generations?” Renard asked.

“I haven’t looked into that so much yet.” Belle admitted. It was a puzzle she didn’t have a lot of pieces of just yet. Several sources hinted that it was an immortal beast that survived the generations and other sources claimed there was more than one wolf. There were also some vague stories she was getting of a  _pack_  of wolves several more villages away. “The things I’ve heard about that have been quite contradicting and I don’t know what to make of it.”

Renard nodded in a way that reminded Belle of someone delivering a history lesson. “Aye, the farther ye get from the source, the farther ye get from the original story.” With a conspiratory wink, he added, “But I knows a tale from this ole lady who’s been face to face with a beast and  _lived_.”

Belle gasped. “Where can I find her?” If she could just get a hold of the woman and talk to her, it would work wonders on her research, filling up a lot of the gaping holes and clarifying the blurs.

“Couple of weeks long walk from here if yer going on foot, lass.” Renard let out another chuckle, “An’ you’ll know her by scars on her arm.” He gestured to his forearm, indicating where to look if Belle ever did meet the woman. “She said that were from the wolf itself, but another one. I’m guessin’ ‘twas a relative of our wolf. A sire or grandsire, methinks.”

Excited by this new story, Belle moved her chair closer to the table and listened. He talked of how the beast was a killer that worked fast- the men barely had time to defend themselves before it was upon them. But for some reason, when it came upon the old woman (who had been just a child at the time), it marked her but didn’t kill her.

That intrigued Belle, seeing as it was the first story she’d heard of the wolf sparing someone. Curiosity and fascination got the better of her, keeping her stitched to her seat. She exchanged stories with Renard, sharing the few she knew and some of the research she’d dug up, while he told her about tales he’d heard from people who’d passed by or lived in the very village the wolf was supposed to have come from.

At the back of Belle’s mind, her conscience worried about Red and wished to find her and offer comfort. Belle had to remind herself that even if Red and Mary spent those two nights nursing Belle back to health, they weren’t quite close friends yet. They still didn’t really trust her, and Belle herself still held back some details when talking to them.

For now, this was the most productive thing she could do.

* * *

Leaves slapped at her face, branches clawed at her skin, shrubs pulled at her clothes, protruding roots threatened to trip her or twist her ankles. Through the watery eyes and the plants blocking her view, Red could barely see in front of her. Heavy, choked breathing made it difficult to scent things. She didn’t know where she was going or what she was looking for.

All she knew was that she had to  _move_. To run. To propel herself forward and work her legs until they burned and screamed. To push herself even further beyond that. To get away. To  _just keep going_.

They were talking about Peter. Gossiping about him like he was just some character in a story, laughing and smirking among themselves at their perceived reason for him being in the forest that night. They didn’t know what they were talking about and Red didn’t know if it infuriated her or pained her or both.

When the branches and trunks flying by moved to a different angle and the ground seemed much lower, Red realized she was on all fours. Her eyesight had changed, too. Sharper, clearer, detecting shapes more distinctly despite the darkness. The sound of her own breathing seemed much louder now. And the voices of the men were reaching her ears again even if she knew they should be out of earshot by now. The words were indistinguishable but Red recognized the sound and the laughter.

 _No_.

This wasn’t happening.

This  _shouldn’t_  be happening.

Pain and grief were morphing into a hot, burning aggression that made her want to rip and tear and destroy. The people were showing disrespect and they needed to pay. They were ignorant fools. They deserved punishment. This anger needed an outlet. This fire needed to be released to burn everything in its way and leave scorched, shattered destruction in its wake.

 _No_.

The moon was still a few days away.

Red counted it. She kept track. She was careful. She was never going to let the wolf come out and kill again. She  _wasn’t_.

She wasn’t wearing the hood. It was still in Belle’s room.

The wolf was awake. Not in control enough to steal this body and change it into a weapon of death and destruction, but awake nonetheless. Red felt it stirring and howling for a way out.

This  _shouldn’t_  be happening.

With a cry that sounded more like a feral howl or roar than anything that would come out of a human being, Red threw herself to the ground.

The impact sent shockwaves through her body, stunning her and sending the breath out of her in a whoosh. Hopefully, it would have knocked the wolf out of her.

She was a monster.

Lungs burning from a combination of the run and the uneven gasps, Red struggled to breathe, feeling it clogging up in her throat and choking her until she was sobbing.

Peter was dead.

Shivers were traveling up and down her body. Red curled up into herself, drawing her knees close to herself and burying her face into her arms. She could smell blood on her skin from cuts the forest had given her.

Peter was  _killed_.

He wasn’t just dead. He was murdered.  _Slaughtered_.

She was the one who chained him up and left him defenseless like cattle ready for the butcher. He didn’t have the mobility to fight back and didn’t have the freedom to flee.

And when she was done with him, there was barely anything left other than bloody snow, torn clothes and scattered chunks of human.

A hand touched her shoulder.

Muscles tensing, Red recoiled away from it. Nobody should be near her now. Nobody should be near her  _ever_. She was a monster and nobody was safe in her presence. She was a threat and a danger to all.

From her position on her hands and knees, shoulders hunched and head low, Red felt more like a beast than anything else. “You’re an idiot for thinking monsters deserve second chances!” The sound was a sob and a snarl all at once. “They _don’t_. They never did and they never will. They’ll stab you in the back and destroy what remains until  _there’s nothing left but blood and snow_.”

“Red?”

Upon realizing who it was, Red staggered further away until her back was against the trunk of a tree.

“What happened?” Snow’s voice was filled with concern as she drew closer.

“I…” Red felt the words catch in her throat, clogging it and keeping her from speaking or breathing. She sobbed and felt her eyes sting.

Mumbling low, hushed sounds of comfort, Snow pulled Red into an embrace, cradling her and offering some illusion of safety in this closeness. It was when Snow was rubbing circles into Red’s back that she began to regain the ability to speak, albeit between sobs and gasps.

“Talking about Peter again.” She buried her face into Snow’s hunting tunic, wishing it could swallow her up and take her away. Just saying his name felt like silver was being driven into her chest and twisted. “I hate how they don’t care.”

She trembled and whimpered when for the briefest of moments, she pictured Peter and feeling his arms around her and inhaling the scent of his clothes and of the tint of a metallic scent that always hovered about him, giving away his occupation as a blacksmith apprentice.

Red took in a deep breath, reminding herself that this was Snow. That Peter was gone. That now, he was just a tale to laugh about over drinks. “They talk about it and laugh like it’s this guessing game,” She cringed at the thought and at the constricting pain in her chest. “And whoever can come up with the most exciting ideas gets to be called the biggest genius.”

“They don’t know any better.” Snow’s voice was the same soft, soothing tone, all comfort and understanding and no accusation. “But what they’re doing isn’t right.”

“I don’t want him to be remembered like that.”

“He was a good man. He was more than just a tale.” Snow continued rubbing at Red’s back with one hand while the other was wrapped around her in a gesture that was both comforting and protective. “You know that and I know that.”

There was nothing Red could think of to say in response to that, but the silver knife in her chest was still digging in deeper, carving out a gaping hole that burned and ached and tightened all the way around her until breathing and moving and speaking were impossible.

Four months of running away from that night and it was still chasing after her, prowling around her, just at the edges of her consciousness and then lunging when she least expected it, clawing at her until she was torn to shreds and gasping.

Nightmares still haunted her. Flashbacks still blindsided her. Guilt still wrenched at her heart.

It wasn’t going away and Red wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

If not for Snow, Red might have already driven something into her own heart as punishment for the monstrous crimes she’d committed. Might have already made the final escape from these thoughts and nightmares and flashes.

“Did you tell her?” Snow’s question broke through Red’s thoughts.

Belle was naïve and it would be better to keep her that way. Safer.

It was a bad enough idea to spend time with her and get to know her. It was stupid to think they could be friends. Besides, by the interest she showed in the gossip about Peter and the wolf, it was clear Belle was better off staying in her bubble and never knowing how close she came to the murderer she was so keen to hear about.

And there was still the silver dagger to consider. Red knew the one hanging on the door was a regular one but the one hidden in Belle’s bag was a threat. If that wasn’t a distinct clue that Red should be maintaining her distance then she didn’t know what else could be.

“No.” Finally finding some semblance of steadiness in her voice, Red answered Snow’s question. “Didn’t tell her. Never should. Never will.”

And Snow was right. Staying here and getting too attached was the worst thing Red could do. It would only lead to trouble. Trouble that could only escalate into danger and death and grief.

They had to get going as soon as it was possible.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was kind of tricky to write because Belle’s feeling better and finally starting to think straight. I wanted to make her POV scenes less rambling than it was in the previous chapters (minus of course the parts where she really is just flustered) and I’m still not quite sure if I pulled it off. Red on the other hand is supposed to be a mess of conflicting thoughts and confusion and I tried really hard to portray that but yeah… it was tricky and I dunno what to think about the result. Oh well \:D/

The three books were still there. One that was something of a bestiary about animals in this area. One that described the locals and some of the more populated villages (with a very brief mention of wolf legends). One that discussed various (still questionable) creatures such as shapeshifters and animal guardians and possessed beasts.

A journal she’d been keeping was also there. The first few pages were translation notes and research on the Yaoguai. (It had been the reason she bought the journal in the first place.) The later pages had notes from the books she had as well as tales she’d heard and written down, with extensive annotations on when and where portions of the stories held repetitions and consistencies. Last night’s tales and stories had already been documented, right before Belle collapsed onto the bed and slept deeply.

She woke up feeling well-rested and was now taking inventory of her things, head clearer than ever, mind awake and alert at last. Her body was still sluggish but Belle knew it would regain strength soon enough. What mattered to her was being able to finally think clearly again. Dealing with scrambling, disorganized thoughts had not been fun at all.

Lifting her eyebrows and snapping her fingers, Belle remembered another thing she wanted to check on and walked straight to her bag still lying next to the bed. Rummaging through it, she found that it was almost empty without her spare clothes, but she found the cloth-wrapped bundle she’d been looking for.

Belle moved carefully, unwrapping it to reveal the silver glint of a dagger she’d traded an arm and a leg for. The blade gleamed in the light, the silver causing it to look different from most weapons, though Belle didn’t really have the expert eye to know exactly what it was. She just knew and felt that it was different and (hopefully) worth it. When she got it, she didn’t even have enough money to buy a sheathe anymore and resorted to keeping it wrapped up like this.

A knock on her door caught Belle’s attention. She wrapped the dagger up again and returned it to its place at the bottom of the bag before going to the door and opening it.

“Hi…?” The greeting almost sounded like an uncertain question. Red stood at the doorway with a sheepish expression on her face and Belle’s clothes in her hands. “I… er… finished washing your clothes.”

Not sure how to approach what happened last night (and discarding the several hypothetical conversations she rehearsed this morning) Belle accepted the neatly folded clothing. “Thank you.” She went over to her bed and placed the clothes on top of the pillow while Red hovered by the door, awkward and unsure.

“You… left your cloak.” Was the first thing Belle could think of saying.

Red stepped closer into the room to look at the door and retrieve her red cloak. She bundled it up (a lot more sloppily than Belle’s nicely folded clothes) and held it close. “Forgot to get it back after… well.” Her foot dragged along the floor.

The sentence was left unfinished and hanging in the air.

Hesitating, Belle wondered if she was supposed to close the distance between them and offer a hug (or were they not close enough to do that yet?). Maybe she could pat Red’s shoulder (or not, Red was too tall and Belle wasn’t sure if she would be able to reach). Maybe the arm instead? (That might be odd because people normally patted shoulders or backs when a friend was sad, right?)

And Belle felt herself brought back to the question of what kind of relationship she had with Red. There was nothing in the long list of rules Belle had studied in her father’s castle about how to determine appropriate and inappropriate behaviors for someone who saved you _and_ nursed you back to health. There were some mentions of if it were a knight saving her if she were in distress but this didn’t quite fit that category.

“How are you?” Belle finally broke the silence and asked what she wanted to ask. It was only after the words were out that she felt painfully aware of how they were on opposite ends of the room and this was the kind of question one normally asked within closer proximity to the person being spoken to.

“I’m… I’m fine.” Red answered, even if she wasn’t. Even from this distance, Belle could see that the dark circles were more prominent, and there was no mistaking the puffy eyes of someone who’d spent the previous night crying.

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me.” Belle sat on her bed, leaving room for Red to sit next to her. It was the most practical thing Belle could think of- it meant avoiding the awkwardness of deciding whether or not to hug (or reach the shoulder or pat the arm) and it gave Red the choice of whether or not to come closer. “But you don’t have to lie…”

“I don’t like lying.” Red admitted with a smile that didn’t really hold any happiness. She hesitated at the door for a moment before walking over and sitting next to Belle. “But sometimes it feels like the… _safe_ thing to do.”

After a brief pause to see if Red was going to add more to that, Belle said, “It _does_ feel safer sometimes…” As much as it bothered her to agree, Belle had to remind herself that she _did_ have to hide and bend certain truths to be able to survive the world outside castles and towers.

“But it still gets to you, doesn’t it?” Red’s blunt observation was delivered with a tilted head and a raised eyebrow.

Caught off-guard by how Red had managed to read that, Belle had to take a moment to reorganize her thoughts before she answered, “I’ve had some of the most important people in my life lie to me—either by constructing elaborate lies or by hiding significant truths I had a right to know—usually in the name of _keeping me safe_.” She almost added ‘ _or because they preferred to cower in their safe bubbles’_ like what Rumple was also so fond of doing.

“I’m sorry,” Red looked genuinely guilty, “I’ve had that done to me too and I… It just… I wish I could… It’s just-“

Belle put a hand over Red’s. “Don’t worry. You and Mary have your reasons for not telling me things.” A soft, understanding tone seemed to calm Red. She looked less cornered and distressed as Belle continued speaking, “Trust takes time and we’ve only known each other for such a short while.”

“I feel…” Red clasped Belle’s hand. There was something going on beneath the surface of Red’s eyes- some emotion she was battling with, some dark fear that blocked the way, “like… I…”

In an obvious change of direction, Red pulled away and said, “You’re really interested in that wolf, aren’t you?” There was a cringe that followed this, before Red seemed to force her muscles to relax into a supposedly casual position, though it still held some stiffness.

“It’s the reason I came to this area in the first place.” Belle hid disappointment she probably didn’t have much of a right to feel. Whatever Red had been about to say, Belle had no claim to it because they still needed more time to reach that level.

But oddly enough, Belle felt more and more comfortable around Red. Talking to her felt right. Awkward sometimes and bizarre at others and occasionally challenging when those subtle shifts in mood would show on Red’s face, but it just _felt_ right. Like Red was someone who could really understand Belle.

Understanding wasn’t quite what Mulan had for Belle. It was more of respect- a rare gem for Belle to experience after being undervalued and sheltered for so long. There were times when she still wished she could have tried to spend more time with Mulan, maybe even asked to join in Philip’s quest. Both for the adventure it would have involved and for the way Mulan treated her.

And with Red? There was this sense that Red would listen and would try to understand and it was a good feeling that came with that. Belle liked it and hoped that either Mary and Red would stay longer or maybe let Belle come along.

“What do you want with the wolf?” Red’s voice sounded unusually stiff, guarded even. But that interest and attentiveness was still clear in her eyes and Belle was encouraged by that.

“I just want to study it.” Belle answered. “I’ve heard so many rumors about it, I want to witness it up close and sort out the truth from the gossip.”

“And then what?”

That was a phase that was still very far ahead of her quest. “Well I’d have to actually _find_ the wolf first…”

Red rolled her eyes, “I mean what would you do with it if you found it?”

“I’d observe it and take notes.” Belle answered, “Try to learn its behaviors…” As she spoke, she felt a contrasting mixture of being proud of her plan and worrying that someone as experienced as Red would find the whole idea silly. “I-I’m sure that with enough time, I can decode its behaviors and understand why it acts in the way that it does.”

Beginning to get worried about if it sounded like a childish dream, Belle felt (not for the first time) a need to explain herself to Red so that she would understand. “Remember when I said that I believe everyone has some good in them?”

“Yes…” The guarded look was still there.

“I _really_ think that there’s more to a being than the monster everyone perceives it to be.” Belle was going to ramble again. She would have stopped but Red’s face still showed doubts. “And I’m quite certain that there’s a possibility that it could be that kind of case with this wolf.” There were so many contradictions to that sentence, Belle would have given her own wrist a slap for it.

“But what about your silver dagger?” Red spoke up before Belle could ramble further. “Are you planning to test it out and see if it really _does_ hurt?” The tone was almost confrontational.

“You saw the dagger?”

That stopped Red in her tracks. The hunched shoulders and hardened eyes seemed to retreat and Red just deflated. “I… well… I accidentally picked it up when I was sorting out your clothes…”

The inconsistent behaviors and frequent shifts in mood should have turned Belle off and frustrated her, but it only drew her further in. They intrigued her and she knew there was a story behind it and if she could just go about it carefully and gain Red’s trust little by little, then maybe the story would begin to show itself, word by word then sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph.

“I got it for self defense. Just in case something gets out of hand.” Belle answered the question honestly. “I wouldn’t use it to _kill_ the wolf, no.” The thought made her stomach squirm with discomfort and a bit of guilt. “Maybe just nick it if it corners me and I have no other choice?”

 “ _Really_?”

“I would rather not hurt it…” Belle knew most people would have perceived the mentality as weakness that would get her killed, but she couldn’t help feeling this way. It went right along with her belief that there existed some goodness in even the worst of people. “Only if I _really_ had no other choice… I guess I would have to…”

“You don’t want to hurt it even after everything you’ve heard about it last night?” Red’s voice wavered but managed to finish the sentence.

“I take gossip and tales with a grain of salt.” Belle knew well enough how stories could evolve with each retelling and how fast rumors could breed and spread. Tales of Rumple were evidence enough of that.

“Besides, that’s all the side of the people who’ve seen the wolf at its worst. I want to know the wolf’s side.” The words sounded childishly imaginative the moment they crossed over from Belle’s mind to her mouth.

Red was quiet for a moment, conflict raging in her eyes, head pulled down by the weight of her thoughts. It was as concerning as it was fascinating. Belle wondered what was going on in there and how it could cause such an impact.

Would she ever know? It was like the pages were just barely within her grasp and she could almost peek under the cover but the book kept slipping from her grasp.

“You’re…” Red looked up. “…different.”

“Is this about my accent again?”

The seriousness broke away in a burst of laughter that had Red shaking her head and carrying herself more lightly. “No! You’re just really…” Her hands grasped at the air like words were to be found there. “You’re not like most… You’re like… You’re very…”

Rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up, Red gave up. “Oh, never you mind! Yes, let’s say it’s because of your accent.” She patted Belle’s lap. “Let’s put it at that and leave it at that.”

Though the inconsistent moods were something Belle was gradually adapting to, it still surprised her to see Red laughing like this and it was a tad frustrating that whatever it was she was going to say had been pushed aside in favor of Belle’s wrong guess.

“Why?” Belle had honestly thought it was a quip at her accent again. She prodded Red for the real answer. “What were you going to say?”

Grinning ear to ear and looking a lot better than when she’d first entered the room, Red just shook her head. “Just that you’re _straaaange_.”

The long, drawn out word was delivered in a teasing tone and it had Belle raising an eyebrow and holding back a smile. This lighter, freer atmosphere was infectious. Poking Red again, Belle made sure to put enough pressure on the ribs until it resulted in some squirming. “I’m strange, am I?”

Red tried blocking access to her ribs using the cloak. “No, don’t!”

“Who’s strange now?” Belle leaned closer to get a better reach and be able to weave her hands through the cloak and prod Red’s ribs several more times. She was squirming and giggling, moving further into the bed and trying to evade Belle.

“Still you!”

No longer able to suppress a grin and laughter of her own, Belle dove after Red, concentrating on her sides, tickling her until the giggles erupted into unbridled laughter. “I’m not _that_ strange!”

Laughing too hard to be able to give a coherent retort, Red retaliated by throwing the cloak up towards Belle’s face, distracting her and taking advantage of it. She felt hands moving across her ribs and giving her a taste of her own medicine, keeping her laughing too much to be able to speak.

Whatever they were doing had escalated into a full-blown tickle fight and Belle felt happier than she’d ever been before. She threw away any last semblance of grace and poise, wrestling with Red until it was difficult to breathe and every limb felt like squishy mud instead of flesh and bone.

It was when her already limited strength was wavering that Belle felt her wrists being grasped and pinned down against the bed while her waist was trapped between Red’s legs.

They were both panting and breathless (Belle a lot more so than Red, who was only slightly winded). It was beyond Belle how she managed to still have the breath to giggle though her attempts to wriggle out from under her captor.

Red was leaning over Belle, long hair tickling her face and making her nose scrunch up. “Gotcha.” It was a low chuckle in between the panting but what was intriguing about it was the brief flash of yellow in Red’s eyes. It happened so fast, Belle wasn’t sure she’d really seen it and assumed it was some trick of the light or her own eyes.

The sound of the door creaking open caught their attention. “Breakfast is ready, so hurry before it gets-“ Mary stopped at the doorway, took in the sight before her and exclaimed, “ _What are you two doing_?”

Through the haze of laughter and enjoyment, Belle hadn’t realized how compromising their position was until she saw the wide-eyed, jaw-dropped look on Mary’s face. It brought a blush to Belle’s cheeks and she made another halfhearted twitch of her arms.

“Snn- _Mary_!” Red was the one with a more violent reaction, reeling back and scrambling away from Belle, flailing until an inevitable fall right off the bed. There was the thud of Red hitting the floor, then the scraping sound of her getting to her knees and peeking over the edge of the bed. “Hi!”

Mary just raised an eyebrow and didn’t seem amused.

Cheeks still warm and flushed, Belle sat up. “Good morning!”

Mary rolled her eyes.

* * *

Breakfast was weird. Snow kept throwing strange looks in Red’s direction and with good reason. After losing her grip last night and breaking down, Red shouldn’t be going around playing games with Belle and _straddling_ her. They were supposed to be keeping their distance from each other. _Red wasn’t supposed to be getting attached_.

She tried. This morning, she really tried.

Then Belle had to go on about how she didn’t have it out for the wolf and the silver dagger wasn’t really part of a plot to kill it and she wanted to hear the wolf’s side of the story and it was all just such a confusing thing to take in.

Red was still reeling from it all.

And that confused look on Belle’s face when she thought Red was referring to the accent. She shouldn’t have found it as adorable as she did.

As much as she tried to deny it, Red felt pulled towards Belle. It was a light tug when they first encountered her in the forest. It was just barely noticeable when Red took in her condition. Then it got stronger when they took her to the inn. The two nights watching over her and wishing and hoping and even starting to _pray_ for her to survive… it gathered strength.

Finding out about how sweet and humorous she is? Learning about her views regarding the wolf? That just made the pull stronger and now Red had no idea how to go about this situation.

Deep down, she still knew it was dangerous to let Belle get too close and the wolf would only make a meal out of her. So much could get out of hand. Belle could get hurt. And Red? She knew she was a monster and she shouldn’t start forgetting that just because Belle talked about her opinions.

 But Red hadn’t expected it to be this difficult to maintain distance.

The minor scratches from last night’s run through forest had healed and the wrenching emotions that muddled her thoughts had cooled after some sleep and it should have resulted in more rational thinking and better composure. Instead, Red felt like she was making even less sense and thinking even more impractically.

“This tastes good.” Belle’s attempt to break the silence was met with quiet nods and mumbled agreement.

Red opened her mouth and tried to think of something to say, came up blank and just went back to focusing on her food. Snow threw another look in Red’s direction.

They were probably going to have a long talk the moment Belle was out of earshot. It would probably be another intensive discussion about the risks of staying too long and besides that, there was still that plain, unchangeable fact. Red was dangerous to be close to. Snow took enough risks already. Belle wasn’t prepared for any of that. She was better off by herself. Safer.

“How are you feeling today?” Snow’s question was directed at Belle and though there was a hint of interested concern to it, there was that hidden meaning to it that Red knew could be translated as, ‘ _Are you well enough to be left alone so Red and I can get going?_ ’

“Much better today than yesterday, thank you.” Belle answered, “I’m a touch lightheaded after…” She blushed and squirmed in her seat. “…this morning’s…  _excitement_.”

Red felt Snow shoot another quick, judgmental glance.

“But I think it’s just a matter of gradually regaining my strength.” Belle finished.

“That’s good to hear.” Snow’s voice was level and almost conversational but Red could feel and even _scent_ the tension still coming from her in waves. It was dark and hard-edged, just barely held back from emerging.

Belle didn’t seem to notice as she went on to say, “I was thinking of walking around the town today. Maybe get a map and a scroll case.”

“I believe there’s a stall nearby where you may buy those items.” Snow was using that formal voice that made Red feel like something serious was going to happen. It heightened her uneasiness and sent warning bells ringing through her mind.

“I could take you there after eating.” Red blurted out the words before she could stop herself. Bouts of nervousness wracked her when Snow shot another look, but Red managed to maintain a grin. Whether or not it looked natural was another matter altogether.

Eyes lighting up with excitement, Belle did a little bounce in her seat. “That would be great!”

Some part of Red’s mind started flashing images of last night, of the look on Belle’s face when she heard the stories the men were sharing about the wolf, of the laughter that filled the inn when they talked about Peter.

Another part, sharply contrasting the dark pictures, fought back with Belle’s softened face and understanding eyes when she said she wanted to hear the wolf’s side of the story.

It was a sickening mixture of wanting to run and hide versus wanting to wag her tail and howl and then feeling disturbed by that image and then just feeling really upset and confused.

“I on the other hand will be heading further out to hunt more game to be paid to the innkeeper.” Snow finished up with her meal and glanced at Red in a way that seemed to be a subtle warning to be careful. “I believe I’ll be back by noon.”

“I could pay you back for the room and-“

Lifting a palm, Snow signed for Belle to stop. “Consider it a gift.” The smile that accompanied this looked warm and friendly, though Red could still sense Snow’s tension.

“Thank you!” Belle maintained that bright, excited tone.

The anxiety was getting to Red’s head, making her heart pickup its pace and her thoughts go racing in opposite directions until she found herself saying, “Hey Belle, if you’re not feeling too tired, maybe after we’ve got your map, I could give you some of those tips I promised for dealing with the forest.”

“Yes, please!”

Red. In the forest. With Belle. So soon after last night’s close call.

This was a bad idea and Snow’s glare was already saying as much.

Fighting back the happy excitement that bubbled up at the thought of frolicking through the trees with a friend, Red reminded herself she wasn’t a playful puppy. She was a dangerous beast and going into the forest and letting herself loose was just _begging_ for tragedy to strike.

But Belle was so sweet and so understanding and so open-minded…

“If you’re too tired though, we could turn in early tonight,” Red rambled before she could stop herself (and before Snow could step in). “And I can take you to the forest first thing in the morning. I’ll even give you a couple of tips for tracking.” It wouldn’t matter that Red might teach Belle some tips on tracking. It was doubtful she’d manage to find the wolf. Red wasn’t going to free the wolf anyway. This full moon was going to come and go with Red safely in human form under her hood. Besides, by the time the full moon was up, Snow and Red would (or should) be long gone. Nobody was going to get hurt.

Hopefully.

Stifling a whine, Red saw the wide-eyed look on Snow’s face harden into narrowed eyes and gritted teeth.

“You’ll teach me how to track the wolf?” Belle’s voice was several pitches higher than usual, her excitement and eagerness shining through.

Snow’s glare intensified. “Well in _that_ case, I might _not_ be back by noon.” The way she pushed her empty plate aside was more forceful than was normally necessary. “I have more hunting to do.” The irritation had wormed its way into Snow’s tone and filled Red with guilt. She was making a mess of everything and she knew it.

While Red was busy trying to think of something to say to improve the situation, Belle spoke up. “Are you sure you don’t want me to-“

“ _No_.” With one low, edged word, Snow cut off Belle’s well-meaning offer.

Desperate to diffuse the tension, Red scrambled, “I-I could pitch in. The innkeeper’s mentioned he’s looking for a barmaid?” The attempted offer sounded more like a question than anything else. Red didn’t know what she was doing and was this close to clawing ridges into the table out of frustration and distress.

“Great.” Snow’s voice rose up with feigned joy. “ _Perfect_.” The word was hissed out between Snow’s gritted teeth- biting, sarcastic and bitter.

They were _definitely_ going to have a long talk tonight.

With one last glare at Red, Snow turned to walk away, throwing parting words over her shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to inform the innkeeper of our plans to stay.”

Once Snow was gone, Belle fiddled with her hands and spoke in an uneasy, tentative tone, “Is Mary alright?”

It took another moment to realize who Belle was talking about before Red answered, “She… she just gets twitchy when she’s not hunting.” It was the first lie Red could think of and she knew it was too shallow to be believable.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No!” Red struggled to keep the panic from leaking into her voice when all she wanted to do was howl and wail and- _no_. Stopping herself, Red took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing her tensed muscles to relax, easing her clenched fingers into more neutral positions. When she next spoke to Belle, it was with a calmer voice. “Don’t worry about it. I think she’s more upset with me than anything else.”

It wasn’t enough to ease Belle though. Concern and worry showed clearly on her face. “I’m sorry…”

“Just… just don’t worry about it.” Red reached forward and patted Belle’s hand, “I… er… had a disagreement with her… last night.” It was another lie because the disagreement happened right this moment and not last night, but the less Belle understood of the situation, the better.

The lying stirred up a lot of guilt, and it sounded all too much like what Belle said she didn’t like and Red almost felt herself blurting out apologies for lying and just coming clean with the truth. Common sense held her back and trapped the words halfway up her throat.

It was madness to tell Belle something that heavy.

Besides, Red already swore to herself that she wouldn’t. It was better for everyone. Belle would be safe and in another day, she could be left alone and have the freedom to go hunting or tracking or reading or whatever it was she was into while Red and Snow would be long gone and away from anyone who might be hurt by the monster.

“Maybe you could talk to her about it when she gets back? Make peace with her?” Belle suggested, friendly and innocent and so much better off in her safe bubble and away from all the madness that made up Red’s mess of a life.

“Definitely will.” Red swallowed and glanced at their empty plates to change the topic. “You done? What do you say we get looking for that map?”

At Belle’s nod, Red stood up and led the way back to their rooms, where Belle would retrieve her money and Red would go through an intensive internal debate that ended with the decision to wear her hood the whole day, just in case she started losing herself again.

Right now, Red was already struggling to stay calm and collected. She feared the wolf might take advantage of the turmoil and emerge if all these pent-up emotions escalated into an explosion.

“Shall we?” Belle reached for Red’s hand, distracting the scattered thoughts and retrieving her attention. Red blinked a few times and watched Belle twirl her wrist in a gesture towards the door leading out of the inn.

Stifling the conflicted emotions battling inside her, Red managed to smile and take Belle’s hand, relishing the feel of their contacting skin despite herself.

As they went about the town, Red grew more relaxed and comfortable. They spent several hours walking and talking about various light subjects, just like yesterday. A childhood story here, a teenage blunder there, some fond anecdotes about people they left behind…

There were some moments when thoughts of Peter or Granny would threaten to overwhelm her, but Red would always be guided back to lighter paths whenever that happened. It was like Belle could read her thoughts and know when it was time to change the subject.

Red liked it more than she should have and as the day progressed, the thought of parting ways became even harder to stomach. Both because leaving Belle would feel awful and because staying with Belle would be ridiculous and dangerous. And it was crazy for Red to be getting so drawn to someone she just met, just because said person talked so fondly about wolves and adventuring and learning about the world.

“So these are the areas I’ve visited so far.” Once they’d acquired the map and scroll case, Belle had wasted no time in going back to her room and spreading it out on the surface of the trunk, using it as a table. She hesitated before kneeling on the floor next to it. “The towns and villages further north have very limited stories about the wolf, save for the occasional warning tale to keep their children in line.”

Already scribbling marks and notes onto the map, Belle gestured with her free hand for Red to sit down and join her.

Any last thoughts Red might have had about leaving the room for the sake of mentally and emotionally preparing herself for tonight’s impending argument with Snow- that was all thrown out by Belle’s eager voice and gestured invitation.

Flopping down next to Belle, Red watched and listened.

“Now over here,” Belle encircled several towns illustrated onto the map. “… and here, there were more detailed tales and more solid stories. I started to see patterns in the stories, and a few even in a book I read.”

The look Belle gave Red was full of wonder and excitement and brilliant blue eyes, “The howling and hunting prey, that was fairly standard, but when I encountered the stories that incorporated the full moon? That was when it got _very_ interesting.”

“Full moon…” Was all Red could say with a steady voice. Anymore and the quiver would be obvious.

“The closer I got to this area, the more I found out about the full moon phenomenon.” Belle went on, “And some areas even referred to the full moon as wolfstime. _That_ was priceless information.”

The wonder and excitement shifted into a more serious expression- narrowed eyes, a furrowed brow, pouting lips. “But the drawback of getting closer to the source means there are more stories and more stories means different variations. There are some that make it sound as though the wolf is being controlled… like it may be a... a companion or a… maybe a vessel or…”

“A pet?” The thought made something inside Red bristle, insulted.

“No, no.” Belle shook her head, tickled her chin with the feather of her quill. “It’s something deeper than that. Like the wolf is directly linked with someone. Someone who can connect with its feelings and thoughts and influence its actions. There’s too much unusual information about it for it to be a common pet. One of my theories is that this link is strengthened by some power the moon provides and that would be why this person can only use the wolf during… well… _wolfstime_.” Belle bobbed her head to the side at the last word.

Feeling the comfortable, relaxed feeling slowly drain away, Red fidgeted. “So that would be… _one_ of your theories?”

Belle smiled, nodded and pointed towards a village that was several days of travel away from here. “Over here, I started to get the impression that the wolf may be a shapeshifter or a skinwalker- call it what you will.”

“Really?” Red forced her lips to pull up into a smile that bared her teeth and felt like she was biting down on tree bark and soil. Her throat felt tight and her stomach squirmed.

“Really!” Belle maintained the excitement and enthusiasm as she wrote more notes under the marked village. “There were rumors and whispers about it and some people even had traditions that involved frequently wearing wolfsbane or silver pendants wherever they went.” She tapped at it with her finger. “It’s also where I acquired my dagger.”

“But what _really_ intrigues me,” Belle moved the quill to encircle their current location. “Is that this… _here_. There are fresh stories. The story of the boy and the girl and their disappearance… that might actually be a lead that I could follow up on.”

Clasping her hands, Belle turned her attention back to Red. “I’m getting close and I can just _feel_ it.” It looked like there was more that Belle was going to say but she stopped and the excitement drained away. “Red?”

The boy and the girl and their disappearance.

The boy and his _death_ and the girl’s disappearance.

The boy who was _killed_ by the girl before she ran away like a coward.

The boy who was _chained up and killed_ by the girl before she fled the scene like a coward.

 _The girl who was a monster_.

“Red?”

Her hands were shaking. She felt sick. “Yes?” The attempt to lift her head and flash a smile felt like pulling a heavy weight.

“Is… is something the matter?” Belle’s face now held concern and worry.

“I’m fine.” Red’s voice trembled at the lie. Blinking and struggling to keep her breathing even, she avoided Belle’s gaze and focused on the texture and color of the map.

“Are you?”

Red felt her hand being held in between both of Belle’s, felt the warmth radiating from her palms, felt the concern in their grip, felt the comfort being offered in the gesture.

Remembering this morning’s brief talk of lies sent more guilt wrenching through Red, adding itself to the turmoil.

“Just… worried about Mary.” It wasn’t quite a lie. More of a half-truth than anything else. It eased the guilt, but didn’t completely get rid of it.

Belle’s thumb stroked the back of Red’s hand. “I’m sure it’ll be all sorted out after you’ve talked it over with each other.”

“I hope so…” Red sighed.

Squeezing Red’s hand, Belle continued in that same reassuring, concerned tone. “It will be alright.”

Red managed a stiff smile but still avoided Belle’s gaze.

“The tracking lesson we talked about…” There it was again. Belle changing the subject and guiding Red instead of prying and harassing. “Can we do it tomorrow instead? I’m feeling quite tired after the walk… and all that excitement about my quest has taken away the last of my energy.”

It multiplied the guilt and distress, reminding Red of her blunder and of the danger involved in this game she kept pushing herself into playing.

“S-sure.” Red just barely managed to nod and smile at Belle. Before the dark thoughts could grow too overwhelming, the conversations started up again, moving back into the lighter areas, guided and redirected so well that Red could almost forget about it all. Or at the very least, it was hushed to just a dull throb in the far corner of her mind.

Until the inevitable confrontation with Snow.

* * *

“I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean to- I just- I-I-“ Red stuttered over excuses and failed attempts at explanation as she followed a tight-lipped Snow out of the inn and into the forest. It was after Belle had gone off to sleep and Red had returned to her shared room with Snow that the order to go to the forest was given. It was delivered in the clipped, restrained voice Snow had used earlier this morning, clearly showing that her anger had not been diminished.

The stumbling excuses Red struggled to make throughout the walk had only been met with silence.

“Snow, I just really wanted to make sure she wouldn’t get herself into that kind of trouble again.” Red nearly bumped into Snow when she stopped abruptly. “I was worried about her, is that so wrong?”

Arms folded across her chest, Snow turned to face Red, shooting a glare and maintaining her silence.

“Say something… please…?” Yelling and scolding, Red could handle. But this silence? It was eating at her from the inside out.

“Training.” Another clipped, hard-edged word was Snow’s response as she uncrossed her arms to pull out a long, thick strip of cloth from the pouch at her hip. She held it out for Red to take.

Glancing from the cloth to Snow and back, Red whined. “Now? But don’t you want to talk about-“

“ _Now_.” Snow insisted, intensifying her glare and making Red cringe. “We can talk _during_.”

Of all the things they could have done, this would be at the very bottom of the list. Red was worried enough about the wolf after last night’s close call. She didn’t want to be anywhere near it right now, didn’t want to borrow its skills or depend on its senses.

But the look on Snow’s face left no room for argument. Red took the cloth and wrapped it around her head twice, covering her eyes and knotting it at the back of her head.

At least tonight she was wearing the hood. Hopefully it would keep the wolf from trying to wrestle for control like last night.

“Snow…” Red heard her own voice coming out as another whine. “Do we really have to-“

“You had a close call last night _when it wasn’t even wolfstime yet_. Before that, you didn’t hear me come into the room.” Snow’s voice sounded distant, like she’d already started walking away. “This morning, you were startled when I came in. And again, tonight. Breakfast, your eyes changed color at least once.”

It wasn’t delivered in a yelled, scolding voice, but it might as well have been.

Snow’s words were sharp and biting in their truth. All the fussing over Belle had been distracting Red and tampering with her senses and her awareness. The conflicted thoughts and emotions tied to it all had made Red distant and distracted when she should have been paying closer attention to the world around her.

It’s what she and Snow had been working to develop. It was what would help keep them safe if they were ever in a situation that would involve the Queen’s guards preparing an ambush. It was what would help them survive whatever happens.

And Red had been neglecting it. “You’re right.”

“Find me.” The two words were soft, far away and almost inaudible. There was a breathy hint to it that suggested that Snow had purposely whispered to add to the difficulty. Red couldn’t be sure where it came from. Just that it wasn’t anywhere near her.

The chaos and distress, combined with the brisk-paced walk to get here had Red panting slightly. She focused first on evening out her breathing, concentrating on inhaling and exhaling and pushing away the distracting thoughts as best she could.

There were crickets. Scattered across the forest and difficult to pinpoint any one source of their sounds. There were bats, high up and above her- the leathery sound of their wings were distinctly different from the feathery ones of owls. There was a faint sound of shifting soil and rustling leaves, but too light to belong to a human being. It took more concentration to work out that it was just a mouse.

Clenching her fists and gritting her teeth, Red tried harder and called on the stronger sense, the one that easily ruled the wolf and held superiority over hearing.

There was the scent of the chilly air, pinching at her nostrils and the tips of her fingers, reminding her that winter had not been so long ago.

She tried not to think of red-splattered snow and the scent of blood.

She reminded herself it was spring now. Leaves and soil and trees were alive and giving off their scents of life and clarity and she just needed to hone in on that. Just focus on her current surroundings, on her environment, on the present, on the _now_.

Finally, Red caught a faint trace of Snow’s scent, far away and difficult to pinpoint, cleverly positioned downwind.

Red walked in the general direction with her hands spread out in front of her to avoid bumping into any trees. The scent seemed to be moving around a lot, shifted and played with by the wind, making it harder to pin down. There was a moment when Red felt the urge to go down on all fours and just charge blindly through the foliage, howling and snarling for her target.

Disgust and shame kept her in control of the urge, wrenching it away and keeping it locked up.

Eventually, Red began to hear Snow’s breathing. It was shallow and controlled, impossible to hear with human ears, but Red could detect it and followed it. The scent was still difficult to focus on, but it was getting stronger and she knew she was getting closer.

“Snow?” Red called, stepping closer to where she sensed that the scent was strongest. The breathing was even closer, but something was-

Something solid struck her legs, catching her behind the knees and causing them to buckle. With a jolt of her heart and a gasp for breath, Red hit the ground, landing on her back. Pain slammed into her spine, shoulders and the back of her head.

A low growl rumbled in her throat. Before the threat could strike again, Red flipped onto all fours, back arched, muscles tensed, teeth bared, senses on the alert.

The whistle of the wind warned of a weapon swinging her way- long and wispy and fast.

In one motion that moved fluidly through her body, she dodged to the side then lunged forward, tackling the threat, grasping its shoulders and straddling its waist, making sure that when they hit the ground, it was with the heavy thud of the attacker’s back meeting the earth.

With a sound somewhere between a growl and a shriek, the attacker jerked its body upward, unbalancing Red and simultaneously lurching her to the side until their positions were reversed.

Hands grasped at the hood, twisting and pulling at the cloth until she felt it tightening around her throat. “ _Why_ are you so bent on staying?”

Wait, _Snow_?

Though every muscle was still tensed and ready for a fight, Red forced her body to relax and go limp under Snow’s. This wasn’t some hunter out to get her. There was no real danger to her life. Everything was fine.

Well, not everything was fine. A lot of things were wrong and the tension in the air made it difficult to calm down and her heart was hammering against her chest and the wolf was still snarling and trying to come out and throwing itself against the cage of the red hood and howling in frustration and her gums were throbbing where her teeth had attempted to sharpen into shredding weapons and her fingers were still tensed and ready to rake through skin and this bloodlust was terrifying and Red didn’t like how it fought for space in her mind.

“ _Red_!” While one hand maintained its grip on Red’s cloak, Snow pulled out the blindfold.

Red was breathing heavily and struggling to keep the wolf at bay. “I-I…” She swallowed, fought back a snarl that tried to escape, wrestled away the urge to attack, pinned down howl of frustration just waiting in her chest. “ _Wait_.”

Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes struggled to get a hold of herself.

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you that we’d be combining fight practice with scent practice.” Snow finally released her grip on Red’s cloak. “I just… I’m just so _angry_.”

Though her breathing was more of gasping and panting instead of regular breathing, and her heart was still moving faster than it should, Red felt her body relaxing more and she let her head lie back against the soil and grass.

She opened her eyes and looked up to see Snow still on top, but rubbing at her temples and looking more frustrated and upset than enraged and dangerous. The change in posture and diminished scents of aggression helped to calm Red further, communicating to the wolf that there was no longer any threat.

“Snow, I’m sorry...”

“Red, just tell me _why_.” The harshness was gone from Snow’s voice and she just sounded tired now. “Why is it so important for you to make sure that she’s alright? You saw her today. She seems as though she can handle herself now.”

“I don’t know.” Red honestly couldn’t figure it out either. There were several possible reasons but she couldn’t be sure which it really was and she couldn’t quite accept that those were reason enough to consider staying as long as possible, to even _think_ about telling Belle things that were better left unsaid.

“I guess she’s just…” Red could see the fear in Snow’s eyes, the uncertainty of what the future might hold, the distress and anxiety that all came with their currently aimless life of running and hiding and pointlessly surviving. “She’s… different?”

“Because you think she might give the wolf a chance?”

“I…” Red brought her hands up to grasp at her own hair. “I don’t know, Snow… It’s… I feel like… like I’m an awful monster and she’s so much safer just not knowing about the wolf. But I… I don’t know if it’s me thinking it or… or the wolf thinking it but… But it feels like… like it wants to show itself to Belle and see if she’ll be… if she won’t run away or get scared or get angry and _… I don’t know!”_ She dug her knuckles into her eyes, frustrated by her own scrambling thoughts, and even more with her inability to coherently voice any of the mess.

“Red…” Snow moved off of Red to sit next to her instead. “Red, listen.”

Sighing, Red took her hands off her eyes and looked up at Snow.

“The wolf… it’s part of you. I know you’re having trouble controlling it still… but that’s why we’re doing this, right?” Snow brushed strands of hair away from Red’s face, fingertips light and lingering. “So you can get better at putting together the two halves that make you who you are.”

“I don’t _want_ to be the wolf.” Red felt like a stubborn child saying it, but she couldn’t help feeling resentful and frustrated. She rolled onto her side, facing away from Snow. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

The pain of Peter’s death stirred up again. Red hated the wolf for killing him. Red hated the wolf for being a part of her. Red hated being the wolf. Red hated the wolf. Red hated herself. Red feared herself.

“Sometimes these things just happen…” Snow said, “And the best we can do is keep moving forward.”

“In this case, you mean running aimlessly.”

That quieted Snow for a while and Red felt worse after saying it. She sat up and turned back to face Snow. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I don’t know where we’re going, alright?” Snow’s eyes were shinier than usual. “I don’t know where we _can_ go. My mother is dead. My father was killed by some guest in our palace. My stepmother sent a huntsman after me and I was _supposed_ to let him do it. But instead, he told me to run and I’ve been running ever since. And now that we’ve been running together, I know even less where we’re supposed to go.”

At a loss for what to say, Red just sat up and hugged her knees.

“All I know is that if we stop running, either my stepmother’s guards will take me away or someone from your village is going to…” Snow’s voice faltered. “… _hurt_ you.”

“At least we’ve been alright so far…” More or less. Red wouldn’t call it completely alright, given the several close calls that had resorted in rushed packing and more running.

But it could have been worse, right?

“I’m scared.” Snow wiped at her eyes with the cloth they’d used as a blindfold. “I’m scared of what might happen if we stop running and it just bothers me that you seem to be so bent on staying.”

“I know…”

“Do you want her to join us?” That made Red’s heart skip a beat and she didn’t know how she was supposed to react when Snow continued speaking, “She seems smart… like she’s worked as a scholar in someone’s estate.”

Now that Snow had mentioned it, Red suspected that there might be truth in that theory. The way Belle talked made her sound like she was familiar with books and castles and fancy traditions like Snow had been. Her familiarity with maps and the research she had on different places were things to consider.

“I don’t know if that means she might be able to suggest good places for us to go and try to settle or…” Snow shrugged, “…or whatever.”

The thought of traveling with Belle should not have enticed Red as much as it did.

She had to remind herself of the dangers involved and again of the plain fact that Belle didn’t need to get herself all caught up in the tangled mess of this life. She could just go off and enjoy her little wolf hunt by herself and everything could be just fine and she would be safe.

“But I also feel like it means she might be someone sent over by Regina to find us and follow us and lure us into a trap.”

Though that thought had never occurred to Red, she took a brief moment to consider it, then said, “Maybe. But a huntswoman sent after either of us wouldn’t let herself get lost and almost die in the forest.”

“And nobody would let themselves get so close to death just to win us over like that.” The short laugh Snow let out after that was forced and awkward. “This fear is keeping me from thinking clearly.”

“I like Belle’s company.” Red said, “And I know it’s asking for trouble for us to stay here too long but I just… I want to get to know her a little bit. She just seems so…” Unable to find a word for it, Red gestured vaguely towards the sky.

“Fine.” Snow said, “We can stay a little longer. But we really have to be careful, Red. And the closer we get to the full moon, the more important it is for you to keep that hood on while you’re in the forest with her.”

Red sighed, feeling her chest tighten at the thought. “I know.” 


	5. Chapter 5

_“I think probably the first thing I can tell you about staying alive is not to panic.” Red held her hand out to Belle. Grasping it, she used the support to clamber over an old fallen tree that blocked their path. “Mary and I learned that the hard way. Panicking just made it impossible for either of us to think properly and it just got us nowhere.”_

_“I’m definitely keeping that one in mind.” Belle recalled the fear and the knots in her stomach that kept her from remembering her research when it seemed she was starting to get lost._

_“We were running in circles for days before we finally figured we should stop and think things over.” For a moment, Red looked distant again, then she seemed to shake it off and strode forward with renewed purpose._

* * *

“It’s interesting, going through the forest with her.” Belle waved away the mug of rum that Renard was offering her. “I learned a few more things about survival in the forest, and she also told me a bit about the nearby villages.”

Renard drank up the remaining contents of his mug before saying, “But she don’t say much ‘bout the wolf?”

* * *

_“Pine needles, nuts, nettles, some berries,” Red had Belle crouch by the roots of a tree and began listing off what was edible within their vicinity and it matched up with the things Belle had researched before. “Those are good backup foods if you run out of rations.” Towards the end of the sentence, Red had lowered her voice a whisper, then nodded towards something._

_Following Red’s line of sight, Belle saw a small bird perched on the branches of a bush. It inched its way towards a berry and began to peck at it._

_“A trick I learned recently,” Red kept her voice a whisper as she said, “is if you see any birds or little animals eating it, then chances are, you can eat it too.”_

* * *

“She didn’t say much about it,” Belle said, “We mostly focused on foraging for food, and then tracking animals that can be hunted for food, and she taught me how to set up some basic snares.” That lesson had been very useful. It was one of those things Belle struggled with when she tried referring to instructions in a book with limited or vague illustrations. Having Red demonstrate and teach the skill was invaluable.

“’Till when’ll you be staying here?”

That was a question that Belle herself had no answer to just yet. Red and Mary were constantly vague about the length of their stay, and Belle was starting to get the feeling that the two of them had different opinions on the matter. Mary seemed more and more tense with each day, while Red’s behavior was ever erratic. Sometimes it was like she really wanted to stay, other times it was like she wanted nothing more than to run into the woods and disappear again like the first night Belle spoke to her.

Belle on the other hand didn’t mind staying here for several more days. But after taking more notes about the wolf and having this latest conversation with Renard, the temptation to make the trek to the village of the wolf’s supposed origin was becoming difficult to resist.

“I’m not sure,” Belle said, “Maybe a few more days. I still want to ask Red to give me tips for tracking the wolf, or at least canines. Then maybe I’ll be ready to make my way to the village you mentioned.”

If it would take a few weeks to walk there from here, Belle might arrive in time for next month’s full moon and experience being in the wolf’s village at wolfstime.

Something in Belle twisted uncomfortably at the thought of parting ways. Red and Mary seemed to be set on leaving sometime. (Or Mary was at least). Belle couldn’t possibly ask them to take her to the wolf’s village. The other option would be to go with Red and Mary (if they’ll have her), but Belle’s thirst for information and answers about the wolf might just be left hanging.

She felt torn.

“What about you?” She redirected the focus of the conversation back to Renard.

He shrugged, “Figure I’ll have another day to go ‘round and trade for some materials then head back home.”

During their brief conversations together, Belle had learned that Renard was a blacksmith and came here to trade for materials. There was a recent buyer who’d requested silver weaponry as self defense against the wolf. The buyer came from the wolf’s village and that was why Renard knew so much about the area.

Talking with Renard wasn’t the same as talking with Red, but Belle liked it just the same. It was fascinating to learn about wolf stories from him and even get a bit of blacksmith trivia here and there. The fact that he was so open to talking about the wolf was refreshing as well. After spending the whole day in the forest with Red and barely getting anything out of her about the wolf, Belle liked this evening of talking freely about it with Renard. He was like a friendly uncle she could talk to with relative ease.

“So tomorrow will be your last day, then.” Belle didn’t feel as reluctant to part with Renard as with Red and Mary, but his company would be missed nevertheless.

“Maybe,” Renard absently traced the lines along the wooden surface of the table. “I’m startin’ to hear rumors the wolf might be on the move.” He shrugged, “Not sure how true it is, but it sounds interesting.”

“On the move? To where?”

Renard shrugged again, “I only knows as much as you, lass. But I’ll tell ye if I hear anythin’ else.”

The thought of the wolf being on the move and possibly being sighted by another village felt like a challenge to Belle. Having more than one source of witness accounts would give her more to do and give her a wider range of people to talk to. Comparing notes from either village would be exciting and intriguing.

Barely able to contain herself, Belle managed to keep her voice level when she smiled and said, “I’d appreciate that. Thank you!”

* * *

A pouch with some coins. A shoe. A strip of cloth. A waterskin. Dried meet wrapped in cloth.

By now, it was becoming easier to block off the scents of the forest and focus on the things she needed to find. With her eyes closed under the blindfold, Red depended almost entirely on her nose as she moved with slow, careful steps, hands stretched out to keep from bumping into any trees or tripping over shrubs.

The metallic scent of the coins was easy enough to locate with the way it clashed with the more natural scents everywhere else.

What wasn’t so easy was ignoring the scent of meat when her stomach grumbled irritably. It was supposed to be the last thing to be found. That was the rule she agreed on with Snow.

After walking through the woods with Belle and then walking _back_ into the woods with Snow, Red was tired and hungry. Lunch at the inn with Belle had been the last meal Red had and part of her wanted nothing more than to go charging towards the scent of meat and tearing into it and snarling at whatever tried to take it from her.

But _no_.

That wasn’t right.

Breathing in and out, Red pulled the pouch of coins out from where it lay between what felt like the roots of a tree. _Focus_ , she told herself.

“Have you thought about it?” In an attempt to distract herself from her hunger, Red tried to start conversation with Snow.

“About what?” Came Snow’s reply from somewhere behind Red. The scent of the meat seemed to come from that general direction, too.

Stifling the growl that rumbled in her throat, Red pushed herself forward, towards the leathery scent of the ragged old boot they’d found during one of their previous sessions.

The scent of it was detectable enough, but it seemed to be tampered with. Dulled. Muffled. Red wasn’t sure how to describe it.

“About where we’ll go next?” Red followed the scent to where it was strongest and crouched down to fumble for it on the ground.

There was no immediate reply from Snow, hinting that she was still thinking about it, or didn’t feel like talking about it. After several days of staying here _a lot_ longer than originally intended, things hadn’t been the same between Red and Snow.

It was like a wall had developed between them.

As she groped blindly for the boot, Red noticed the unevenness of the soil, like it had been disturbed recently, and not by Red herself. It took a brief moment of thinking and imagination to work out that Snow probably buried the boot. Which would explain why the scent seemed muffled and odd.

There were times when Red felt like she could talk to Snow about the guilt and the fear and the thoughts of Peter, but there were also other times when Snow would be cold and quiet and too intimidating to be close to.

“I considered the area where Belle came from.” Snow finally gave her answer while Red dug her fingers into the soil and set to work uncovering the boot. “But Regina might have tried forming an alliance with them already, and if they have, there’ll be posters everywhere.”

By the time Red had completely uncovered the boot, her fingers were filthy and she had to resist the urge to pull off the blindfold and wash herself off in the nearest stream.

“Another idea is to start a new life among the villages around King George’s kingdom. Last I heard of them before I fled was that they were more interested in an alliance with King Midas than with us.”

The strip of cloth, which was practically bathed in Snow’s scent, was the easiest to find and pull out from where it hung on a branch that felt level with her shoulders.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Red didn’t know enough about the different lands to give any real suggestions, and there were times when she felt like Snow resented her for that.

Ever since they came to the shaky agreement of first deciding where their next destination would be instead of fleeing aimlessly, Snow had been tense and easily agitated. Whenever they talked about this, Snow would think out loud and mull over options while Red fumbled over how to respond when she had such limited knowledge of kingdoms and provinces outside of her own village and its trade routes.

“Maybe…” Snow didn’t sound so sure and Red wished she knew enough about the political stuff and the far away kingdom stuff to understand. “I’ll have to think about it more.”

Red nodded even if she wasn’t sure if Snow was looking this way.

The waterskin was dangling near Red’s head, based on the scent. The excitement of locating it stemmed from the anticipation of the meat being the next task. In grabbing for it, Red hadn’t noticed the spiny shrubs at the base of the tree. Several thorns tugged at her clothes and a few scraped at her as she clutched the waterskin and stumbled back with a gasp.

Points of her skin throbbed with sharp little pin-pricks of pain, but having been inflicted by neither wolfsbane nor silver, Red didn’t have to worry about it and was quite sure they would heal by morning.

The attempts of Red’s mind to keep herself relaxed weren’t quite enough to calm the more primal emotions. She felt another growl rumbling in her throat, and the hunger and discomfort became the focus of her consciousness.

“Red?”  Snow’s voice came from to Red’s side. The meat was there, too. Meat that would finally quiet this hunger and end this game.

Muscles tensing, Red crouched, ready to throw herself at Snow and tear into the meat, sink her teeth into it and feel the taste of it swimming in her mouth and-

“ _Red_.” The sharp, loud call of her name snapped Red out of the vicious images of mistaking edible meat with Snow’s flesh and just… Red cringed at the very thought and pulled off the blindfold.

“Sorry…”

Instead of the irritable, berating tone that Red had expected, Snow held out the dried meat, “You’re hungry and tired and painfully close to the full moon. It’s understandable.”

The full moon.

As much as Red enjoyed spending time with Belle and this indefinite stay, it was becoming a main source of fear and worry that the full moon was fast approaching. Tomorrow night, she had to be completely sure of wearing the cloak and staying in control. They couldn’t take any chances, especially after how long they’d stayed here and how popular wolf rumors were.

* * *

When she awoke that morning, Belle resolved to learn as much as she could about finding the wolf. If there was any truth to the rumor that the wolf had traveled elsewhere, then she had to find out where it went and how to track it.

With Renard probably leaving tonight, the only way Belle could learn would be through Red.

Going straight to the table she and Red usually shared for their meals, Belle worked through several possible conversation starters. The wolf was an awkward subject to bring up with Red, as Belle had observed over the past few days. Whether or not it was because Red knew more than she was letting on was still something that Belle had yet to figure out. It could still be just that Red was deeply afraid of the wolf and wanted nothing to do with it.

It was as Belle had decided on being straight to the point that Red sleepily made her way to the table and flopped down onto her seat.

“Good morning!” was the greeting that left Belle’s lips, easily a good way to start before working her way towards bring up the wolf. But as Red leaned over the table and Belle got a good look at pale skin and exhausted eyes, her confidence dissipated, to be replaced by concern. “What happened?”

Blinking a few times, Red’s eyes seemed to struggle with focusing on Belle before responding with, “Huh?”

“You seem a bit… under the weather.”

The blank look on Red’s face didn’t change.

“Are you… alright?” It was obvious enough that the answer was no, but instead of saying as much, Red blinked a few more times, squared her shoulders and started to look more awake.

“I’m fine.” She licked her lips, her voice coming out rough and dry. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

That pushed Belle a few steps back on her plan to learn how to find the wolf. It wouldn’t be fair to drag Red out into the forest when she looked like she desperately needed more sleep.

“Maybe you should go back to bed?” Belle said, “You look like you could use a few more hours of rest.”

“Is it that bad?” With a chuckle that made Red sound a touch livelier and more like herself, she picked up a spoon and tried to view her reflection with it.

Seeing Red squinting into the spoon and turning it over a few times was amusing. “Yes, it’s that bad. You look like you’re wearing a mask.”

Laughing, Red gave up trying to use the spoon as a mirror and just put it down. “I’ll take your word for it then. But I don’t mind being up.”

“Are you sure?” Though Red looked more awake and alert now, and the playful spark in her eyes was back, she still looked drained and sleepless. That shadow that hovered under the surface was closer and darker than usual.

“Yup.” Red nodded and leaned forward across the table to look directly at Belle. “So what do you want to learn today? More snares? Building shelter? Tracking?”

At the mention of that last word, Belle felt excitement bursting through her. “Tracking, yes please!”

“Alright then.” Red said, “We’ll get to it as soon as we’re done eating.”

“Oh, and I was wondering something.” Belle bottled up the excitement and gathered the nerve to continue, “I was wondering if maybe… it’ll be easier to track any animals if our clothes blended in with the environment more?”

The shift in Red’s body posture couldn’t have been more obvious as she went from relaxed and leaning forward to tensed and leaning away. “What are you saying?”

“I just…” Knowing that it was something sentimental to Red made it difficult for Belle to find a polite way of going about it. That, and the fact that Red knew more about tracking and living in the forest than Belle did and maybe it wasn’t as major a factor as she might think it is. “I just had a thought that…”

Red raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, but instead of holding the interest and curiosity the expression usually had, it was guarded and agitated. “That?”

“Bright red clashes heavily with green and brown?” Belle tried not to shrink away from the tense energy around Red. “I just thought maybe it would be easier to apply the tracking lessons if we didn’t stand out so much?”

“You’re really serious about this tracking thing, aren’t you?” Red seemed to force herself to relax, lowering her shoulders and unclenching her hands, but the look on her face still held unease. “I… Well… You’ve got a point.”

She bit her lip and glanced down at the table.

“And I’m quite sure your cloak will be safe in the rooms.” The obvious uneasiness Red had about the idea was making Belle feel guilty, but she pressed onward, “I remember you left it on one of those times we spent the day talking here.”

With a sigh, Red nodded, “Alright, I’ll leave it.” It looked as if every fiber of Red’s being disagreed with the idea, but before Belle could relent and say leaving the cloak wouldn’t be necessary, that forced smile was back and Red started rambling about tips for finding rabbit trails.

* * *

There was nothing really different about the forest today, but everything seemed to be sharper and clearer than it normally was.

A good meal helped shake away the last traces of Red’s sleepiness, and now all her senses were on the alert and taking everything at a much higher intensity. Every little rustle of leaves in the wind had her ears straining to hear some sign of a threat, and every life form in the forest sent a multitude of messages to her nose.

Despite her sessions with Snow, and the several months they’d already overcome, Red still felt overwhelmed by this burst in her abilities every time the full moon claimed its power over her.

The fact that she felt naked and exposed without the red hood from Granny only served to make Red feel worse about the matter, but she assured herself that it was still daylight and there was plenty of time to retrieve the hood before nightfall.

And Belle _did_ have a point. It would be easier to teach her about tracking animals if she could actually get closer to the animals instead of just catching a glimpse and watching it flee from Red and her bright cloak.

“So… right over…” Red swallowed and pointed towards a rabbit trail. “Right over there, you can see it’s where rabbits normally pass.” The scent of it was pushing and pulling at Red, blasting her with clear images of every rabbit that had ever passed along this trail in the past week. She could see where they would stop, where they would pick up their pace, where they would stiffen when they heard approaching people, where they would relax enough to eat, where they would leave their waste…

“I think I see a pawprint,” Belle crouched down next to a mark on the ground.

“That’s right,” Red didn’t have to look at it. The scent was strong enough already.

“Wait…” Belle moved away from the rabbit trail towards another spot near a cluster of trees and bushes. “This one doesn’t look like a rabbit though.”

Walking over to Belle, Red ignored the random urges to go rabbit hunting and feasting. The taste of its blood on her tongue, the feel of its fur and bones in her jaws… It shouldn’t sound as delicious as it did.

It was a canine scent that made Red feel like her hackles were rising. A glance at the print Belle examined had Red’s heart redoubling its pace and for a wild moment, she feared that she’d miscounted and lost herself for one night and-

“It’s a dog.” Red choked out the words as her panicking mind finally recognized the scent.

“How can you tell?” Belle examined the print before inching her way to the next one, following the trail. “Is there a difference between wolf and dog prints?”

This was dangerously close to a subject Red would rather not discuss, but it was a valid question, and Red was still kicking herself for that time she offered wolf tracking lessons without thinking. This day was as good as any.

“Generally, wolves have bigger paws than dogs, and it shows in their tracks.” Red was surprised by how she’d managed to keep her voice calm so far. “ _The_ wolf you’re looking for will have even bigger paws than any dog or regular wolf.

Belle moved further along the trail, following the prints. With a disdainful sniff, Red couldn’t help feeling judgmental of the dog that had recently passed by. It was a rowdy, aimless animal that blundered through, knocking plants over and throwing its urine all over the trees. Red curled her lip at the scent.

“Another difference is that a dog’s prints will wander around a lot.” Red positioned herself far enough away from the area the dog had wandered through that she wouldn’t have to drown in its scent. She watched Belle walk in several pointless circles as she followed the tracks. “They like to sniff at things and shove their noses into everything, too curious for their own good. Their tracks are aimless.”

Finally seeing that there was little point in following the dog prints, Belle straightened up and looked at Red, “What about wolves?”

“Unless they’re in a playful mood with their pack or… whatever,” An odd pang of pain and loneliness hit Red’s chest at the mention of a pack. “Wolves usually go straight ahead. It’d be an easy trail to follow. No turning around or wandering in circles. There’s more… more direction in the way they walk.”

“That… that makes sense.” Belle tapped her chin, mulling over the idea. “And based on what I’ve read, wolves are usually very territorial, and that implies they know their area enough not to have to keep doubling back. A dog on the loose would be excited by all the new scents and want to look at everything. A wolf would just be concerned with hunting and watching over its territory, or even its pack.”

“Right.” There it was again, that sudden sense of loneliness. Red almost wanted to howl and wail for companionship even if she was already in the presence of a friend right now.

“Do you think the wolf in the stories…” Belle’s face was doing that thing it did when she was working on theories and trying to fill in gaps in her knowledge with guesses she would work on proving or disproving later. “…maybe it attacks and does what it does because it’s lonely?”

Not comfortable with the direction this conversation was going, Red scraped at the soil with her boots. “Dunno.”

“I’ve found very little stories that indicate that the wolf works with a pack.” Belle said, “I mean there are stories of more than one wolf, but within the radius of this area, it seems like there’s only ever one wolf at a time. The vague tales I’m getting about a pack gravitate towards another area.”

Belle pouted and squinted, “What if… there might be a connection between the pack and that one wolf? Perhaps they were separated? And the wolf is acting out because it can’t find its pack?”

“I-I guess? Maybe?” Red felt discomfort escalate into agitation. “How would I know a damn thing about that?”

The irritable voice made Belle’s eyes widen. “I’m sorry… I-I was just… thinking out loud.”

Great. Now she’d snapped at Belle.

Red felt her shoulders droop, “No, I’m sorry.”

The distance between them felt painfully apparent as Red avoided Belle’s eyes. In the silence that hung in the air, Red berated herself for getting so agitated and taking it out on Belle when she had nothing to do with it. She was just too curious about things for her own good.

Footsteps gave away that Belle was walking over. There was a moment of hesitation before Belle reached for Red’s hand. “The wolf really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe.” Red didn’t have the strength to look Belle in the eye. “Sort of. Yes.”

Belle squeezed Red’s hand. “And you’re not ready to tell me what happened, are you?”

“Not…” Red shook her head. “Not really.” It crossed her mind that Belle might be assuming that Red had lost someone to the wolf. It was too much like a lie for her to feel comfortable about it, but on the other hand, Red felt like it was better to let Belle make that assumption instead of knowing the real truth. No amount of understanding and _‘there’s good in everyone’_ mentality would keep Belle from realizing how much of a monster Red really was.

“I won’t press you for it then.” Belle let go of Red’s hand and wandered over to the base of a tree, where the dog had tried to dig at the soil and then lost interest in finding whatever was there.

Ignoring the scent of the dog, Red followed Belle. “Thank you.”

Belle sat down at the base of the tree and toyed with the bark. There was a moment of quiet that Red wasn’t comfortable with. She sat down next to Belle and didn’t know what to say.

“Remember when I said that I liked to think there’s good in everyone?”

“Even the wolf…” It still stirred up mixed, confusing emotions.

“I probably… don’t know enough about the wolf just yet,” Belle shrugged, “But I still would like to think that there’s an explanation for whatever it’s done…”

The explanation was that the wolf was a monster who killed without mercy and saw no value in human life. Red gritted her teeth and fought for control over the conflicting emotions of wanting to open up to Belle and feeling like this level of understanding was undeserved.

“It’s just… it’s just something that’s always been a part of me.” Belle said, “To always find the good in everything.

Sulking at the soil, Red said, “Beasts might just use that to take advantage of you.”

“Probably…” Belle turned to face Red, “But if I don’t try to see the good in them, who will?”

The look in Belle’s eyes was so full of conviction and faith that Red almost felt like she was being read from the inside out and the wolf was visible and it was what Belle was talking about.

Instead, what Belle said next caught Red off-guard. “I’ve lived with the Dark One… with Rumple before.”

“What?”

“When my country had been invaded by ogres, it was draining all our resources.” Belle started to explain and it sounded like this was something she’d been keeping to herself for so long that it needed an outlet, “We were running out of any means to fight back. Our last resort had been to make a deal with him. In return for ridding our land of the ogres…”

“You would go to live with him?” Red had heard enough about the Dark One to feel discomfort at the very mention of his name.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.” Belle let out a short, uncomfortable laugh. “At first, it was quite…” She paused to find the right word, “…unpleasant. He was nasty and rude.”

Based on the things she’d heard about him and his viciousness, Red wasn’t surprised.

“But as the days passed and turned into weeks and then months…” Belle’s expression softened into a wistful one. “I grew fond of him. We began to talk. He would start to treat me less like a servant and more like a friend. I would listen to him and treat him like a person… a good person. And it seemed to be changing him.”

This wasn’t like anything Red had heard about the Dark One before. The look on Belle’s face though was familiar. It reminded Red all too well of Peter, even if she knew that had ended too horribly to count. “Was it like the true love they talk about?”

“It was.” Belle said, “And when I kissed him, the scales melted away and his eyes became human and it was… unbelievable.” A pang of jealousy hit Red as it dawned on her that if true love could break any curse, and her curse didn’t break at Peter’s kiss, then the implications of that were too painful to dwell on.

“But he grew angry and accusing.” Belle cringed at the memory. “And it just…”

Red felt herself tensing, and a growl threatened to rumble in her throat. “Did he hurt you?”

“Locked me in his dungeon for the night and sent me away the following morning.” Belle wiped at her eyes and hardened her expression into frustration. “He was too afraid of accepting that I could love him and see that he was more than just a beast.”

Some emotion that Red could only describe as something like jealousy was still tightening at her chest. She kept herself from growling and evened out her tone as she asked, “Do you still love him?”

“I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Wrestling at the jealousy she didn’t understand, Red instead considered opening up to Belle in return for this recent information. “I… I also loved someone once.”

“What happened?”

“He…” The pain of it started anew. She heard his voice calling her name, trying to get her to recognize him but all she saw was easy prey and a convenient meal and she was just itching for the taste of his blood and the crunch of his bones and the music of his screams.

Breathing in gasps and fighting an overwhelming dizziness, Red pulled herself to her feet. “No. Nevermind. I can’t.”

“Red, I’m-“

“Let’s get going.” Red interrupted Belle in the beginnings of her apology. “There’re things I haven’t taught you yet.” From there, Red avoided anymore eye contact with Belle, even if the guilt and concern radiated from her through both body language and scent.

As she gave Belle more advice and demonstrations for tracking and following trails, it crossed Red’s mind that she was almost behaving like Snow with the clipped words and barely contained agitation.

By the end of the day, Red wanted nothing more than to curl up in her red hood and hide somewhere until the overwhelmed senses and explosive emotions would subside with the departure of the wolfstime moon.

Instead, she and Belle returned to the inn to found the cloak missing from where it had been left hanging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol this took so long, I'm sorry. And yeah... kinda cliffhangery coz I'm a jerk.
> 
> Also, I'm not sure when I can have the next chapter up, but I'll try to have it ready in two weeks maybe? I'm kind of more focused on another project right now, but I'll be working on this, as well.


	6. Chapter 6

 “This isn’t happening.” Eyes growing wide, skin steadily growing paler and paler, Red looked just about ready to faint. Concerned, Belle reached forward to offer support, only to be brushed off. Red fumbled with the door and pawed at the hook where her cloak should be, still looking for it like it might have just been made invisible by some spell.

“This is _not_ happening.” Red’s voice was trembling and whimpering. She all but ran towards the bed, clawing at the sheets and shaking the mattress with surprising strength. “This can’t be happening.”

Breaths coming in rapid gasps, Red’s movement grew frenzied, charging from one end of the room to the other, throwing her and Mary’s belongings around in a panicked search for her cloak.

“Maybe we could ask the innkeeper if he’s seen it?” Belle stepped out of the way when Red scrambled towards the door to check it for probably the sixth or seventh time. “Or if he saw anyone else enter the room?”

“This is bad. This is bad. This isn’t happening.” Red’s words became garbled and nearly senseless as she gasped them out with growing force. When she dug her fingernails into the door, Belle stepped back with fear she hadn’t expected to feel. “This is wrong. This is a mess. This isn’t happening. This is happening. This is trouble. This is no. No. No. No. _NO_!”

A sound somewhere between a shriek and a growl tore out of Red’s throat, accompanied by the cringe-inducing noise of nails scraping wood.

“Red?” Mary’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Red, what’s wrong?”

Red staggered backwards to lean against the wall, trembling and paler than ever. Belle took it upon herself to open the door for Mary, who went in and walked straight towards Red, nearly knocking Belle over in the rush. “What happened? Where’s your hood?”

“We didn’t bring it with us to the forest,” Belle took it upon herself to explain the situation to Mary since Red was gasping and whimpering too much to form any coherent answers. “and when we came back, it wasn’t where we left it.”

“Trouble. Bad. Snow. Peter. Help.” Words tumbled out of Red’s mouth. She clutched Mary’s clothes so tightly, Belle could hear the fabric stretching.

“Hood gone.” Breathing increased to an alarming pace, Red could only gasp out a word at a time. “Hood. Need.” Her face was scrunching up with a look of pain, “Tonight. Bad.”

“Red, breathe.” Mary grasped Red’s face, holding on until the darting eyes finally stopped and focused. “Breathe. Breathe with me.”

There were more sounds of stretching fabric and Red’s breathing seemed to double in speed. “ _Can’t_.”

“Sh-should I-“ Seeing Red in this state was scaring Belle. She fumbled with her hands, wishing there was something she could do. “Is there something- Who can I- What can I-“

“Just _go_!” Mary turned away from Red long enough to bark out the order, “ _Leave us.”_ The commanding tone to it shot through Belle, leaving no room for argument. She left and closed the door behind her.

From there, Belle hovered uncertainly, wishing she could have been more useful, hoping Red would be able to calm down. That cloak meant a lot more to Red than she had been letting on and Belle couldn’t help blaming herself for insisting on leaving it behind.

There was a loud thud from the other side of the door, like something hitting the wall, accompanied by Red swearing.

Reluctantly, Belle accepted that calming Red down would be a task best left to someone who knew her better and spent more time with her, enough to be able to handle this situation. Any clumsy meddling from Belle might only worsen the situation she’d already caused.

Sighing in frustration and quietly reprimanding herself, Belle wandered over to the usual table without really thinking about it. There, she traced the lines of the table with her finger, trying not to dwell on how different things might have been if she hadn’t convinced Red to leave the cloak.

“Mind if I join ye, lass?” Startled by the voice and the appearance of a mug on the table, Belle flinched, then looked up to see a familiar face.

“Renard!” She brushed back the initial surprise and cheered herself up at the sight of him. “I thought you were leaving tonight.”

“Changed plans.” Flopping down onto the chair that Red normally took, Renard grinned widely, “Earlier this morn, I hears from me mate that the wolf might be around these parts.”

The excitement that crashed over Belle was almost enough to drown out her guilt and worry. “ _Here_? Really?”

Renard nodded, and the grin grew even wider, “And guess wot the moon looks like tonight.”

Belle felt like she forgot how to breathe.

“Wot do ye say we go for a walk and see if that mangy old mutt’s as bad as they say it is, eh?”

With an awkward croaking sound, Belle regained her breathing and her voice enough to say, “Us? Tonight?”

A swig of his rum and a wink preceded Renard’s reply of, “Sure, why not? You’re smarter than most of the blokes here and I wants to see if silver really helps coz I might be pricing my wares too low.”

At the mention of silver, Belle came down from her high of excitement. She took a brief moment to work out how best to diplomatically approach the subject before saying, “We shouldn’t provoke it though. Maybe we bring silver only as a means of defense if it’s only absolutely necessary.”

Expecting a jeer and a taunt at her softness, Belle instead got a casual shrug, “If ye say so.”

And that brought her right back up to the cloud of excitement.

* * *

The wolf was free.

She wasn’t trapped in the cage of red anymore. She could run through the forest and howl at the moon and do whatever she wished. She should be overjoyed and celebrating.

What she felt instead was overwhelming rage and frustration she couldn’t even remember the reason for. All she new was that something upsetting had happened and now all she wanted was something to tear apart to release these pent-up emotions.

Blundering through the woods and ignoring the tug and pull of shrubs at her fur, the wolf stumbled over protruding roots that tried to trip her. After so many moons of lying trapped instead of running free, she was disoriented and out of practice and it only served to heighten her anger.

A particularly stubborn team of plants and tree roots finally succeeded in pulling at her and tripping her, sending her crashing into the ground with a yelp.

Anger boiling over, the wolf rolled onto her side and noticed shriveled rope were wrapped around her paws, one of the probable causes of her unusual clumsiness tonight.

The ropes were worn out and cut unevenly, trailing behind her and some tangled themselves up in the bushes.

Snarling curses at the rope, the wolf pulled her forepaws up to her face and began gnawing and tugging at it, moving with frenzied energy and not caring when she drew her own blood. By the time her forepaws were free, they were sore and bleeding.

Rage growing hotter and stronger, the wolf tore at the ropes at her hindlegs, drawing more blood in her efforts to free herself.

Once she was free, the wolf let out a long, echoing howl that was more out of still-burning anger than celebrated victory.

It was then that she caught the scent of prey. It was a good few strides away, unaware of her presence, heart beating within its frail body, blood hiding just under the surface of flesh waiting to be torn open.

Licking its lips, the wolf remembered the rumbling hunger in its stomach and saw this as an opportunity to fulfill two needs with one kill- a release of her anger and a solution to her hunger.

* * *

Having the silver dagger at her hip was like having a heavy weight pulling her down and dragging her back.

It kept Belle alert enough to remember that there was still the potential danger of being attacked by the wolf and this dagger just might be the only thing that would keep Belle from turning into the beast’s dinner.

But it also gave Belle a sense of uneasiness that made her worry that just the sight of the dagger might actually be what will provoke the wolf and _cause_ its attack.

Having with her a weapon that held the potential of seriously harming the target of her observation was going against a lot of things Belle personally believed about maintaining only peaceful interaction during her studies. The presence of the dagger felt like sending the wrong message.

“Lookit this!” Renard’s gruff exclamation pulled Belle out of her swirling thoughts. She walked over to where Renard was crouched down and looking at the ground.

Imprinted on the soil was the clear shape of a pawprint. It was definitely bigger than the dog tracks she’d followed this morning with Red, and when Belle crouched down to put her hand next to it, she was alarmed to see the wolf’s paw was even larger.

“That’s our wolf, ain’t it?”

Belle nodded, pulling her hand back and standing up. “No dog or regular wolf has paws that big.”

“Ye ready to meet the beast?” Renard’s rough voice took on a challenging, taunting tone. He unsheathed his blade.

Alarmed, Belle put a hand on Renard’s arm, “But we’re not here to hurt it, are we?”

“Not purposely,” Renard answered with a more even voice, but still didn’t sheathe his dagger. “But I weren’t going to lie down and let it rip me throat out if we comes face to face.”

On cue, growls sounded from behind them. They both turned, Renard with his dagger ready, Belle fumbling with hers.

The wolf was huge, made even larger and more intimidating by the raised hackles along its neck and the bristling fur along its back. Its snout was crinkled up to reveal teeth longer and sharper than that of any canine Belle had ever seen before. Yellow eyes stood out against its dark fur, glowing like small twin fires in the night.

A terrified, irrational part of Belle’s mind saw a monster to be feared, saw a killer ready to take more lives, saw a reason to run as fast as possible _now_.

Licking its lips, the wolf took a step closer, and Belle couldn’t take her eyes away from the red-stained teeth and the dark liquid coating its mouth and dripping from its chin. More of the red was tinting the wolf’s paws.

It killed something already.

Or some _one_.

The more logical part of Belle’s mind was still scrambling to find an explanation for the wolf, but it was hard not to stare at that blood-stained mouth and think of what might have happened just moments ago and what _could_ happen in a heartbeat.

“Get behind me.” Renard shoved Belle back, putting himself in front of her.

That snapped Belle out of the daze, reminding her all too well of Gaston and her father trying to protect her against Rumplestiltskin. Flashes of her drive to overcome fear and do her duty went rushing through Belle.

“No. I’m going to face this.” Just as she was pushing Renard to the side and taking a step forward, the wolf sprang forward, jaws opened wide, paws outstretched. An arrow came in from behind the trees and struck the wolf’s shoulder, knocking it off its course and sending it sprawling on the ground.

It all happened so fast, Belle could barely take it all in. She watched the wolf lie still, stunned, the arrow protruding from its shoulder.

Would it be a good idea to approach and see if the wolf would be alright? (And if there was silver in the arrowhead?)

Another arrow came in, burying itself into the ground mere inches from Belle’s feet. She scrambled backwards, clutching Renard’s hand and pulling him with her. One more arrow hit the ground where they’d previously been standing.

Exchanging a glance with Renard, Belle saw this as a warning and knew they should turn back and leave. From the wide-eyed look on his face, it was clear he got the same idea.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ([repost from my tumblr](http://thestefidelly.tumblr.com/post/73718170589/haunted-7))
> 
>  _First of all:_ I am horribly ridiculously sorry that the wait was so long. I got caught up in my Once Upon a Christmas project and I’m also kind of struggling with balancing this with the animated Red Beauty Teen Wolf crossover as well as work work. I’m still trying to find a balance and I’m sorry I keep leaving you guys hanging :(
> 
>  _Second of all,_ I’m kinda sorry for the emotional distress this chapter might leave you with and the next chapter is gonna be short-ish so hopefully I can manage to finish it by next or next next week.

A sluggish body with muscles that protested at every little movement was what Red awoke to when the sunlight filtering through her eyelids pulled her out of unconsciousness. Pain hung over her entire body but collected around her wrists and ankles, while her shoulder burned like hellfire.

Her throat felt rough and dry. When she licked her lips, that foul and coppery taste of blood assaulted her senses.

Fear shooting through her veins, Red scrambled into a sitting position. What happened last night? Where was this blood from? What did she kill?  _Who_  did she kill?

It was becoming difficult to breathe.

Red swallowed. The bitter, horrible taste in her mouth grew stronger.

She tried to form words, tried to take in enough of her surroundings to at least figure out where she was and get some semblance of understanding of what was going on, but the panic was making her heart beat rapidly and her breathing followed suit.

Apart from a blanket draped over her shoulders, she was naked.

Breathing was difficult.

Think.  _Observe_. Figure out what’s going on.

Breathing. Difficult.

That was the first wolfstime change since the thing with Peter.

 _Peter_.

Red red red blood on white white snow.

Just like the stench of blood clinging to her skin and sticking to her hair.

Breathing.  _Can’t_.

“Red?”

The sound caught her attention and she jerked her head to the side and saw Snow lying on the ground nearby. For a moment, there was the groggy expression of someone who’d just been roused from a restless, too-short sleep. In a heartbeat and several short gasps from Red, Snow was alert, immediately at her friend’s side, arms around her and offering comfort.

Breathing.  _Hard_.

Red felt her face scrunching up with the effort of trying to control her breathing and her attempts to form words just came out as strangled whimpers and she clutched at Snow’s cloak and pulled at it and gripped it and imagined it was that last root to cling to and keep her from falling over the edge of a cliff.

“It’s a little before noon.” Snow spoke in this soft, almost singsong voice, rocking slightly as she cleared up and answered questions that Red couldn’t even begin to coherently form. “You didn’t kill any person last night.”

Breathing. Breathing. Gasping.  _Clinging to Snow_.

“It was some lost dog.”

Breathe breathe  _gasp_. Choke.

“The ropes tore when you pulled at them then you went running through the forest and I had struggled to keep up. By the time I caught up to you, you’d found the dog.”

_Gasping. Gasping. Choking._

“It was over quickly at least.”

 _Gasping_. Gasping. Breathing.

“After, you saw Belle.”

Choke. Whimper.  _Choke_.

“You didn’t hurt her.” Snow tightened her grip and it almost gave Red some sense of safety and security. It was a false sense, but it helped. “I had to stop you with an arrow, but it was otherwise a relatively tame encounter. I didn’t show my face but I managed to get them to turn back.”

Grasping Snow’s clothes, pulling.

 _Breathe_.

“There was another man with Belle but I failed to fully take in his features. He was vaguely familiar but I can’t be sure.” Snow pulled Red closer, adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, rubbed soothing circles along her back. “But now that they’ve seen the wolf, it might seem too suspicious if we pack up and leave town immediately. Belle seems like the kind of person who would figure it out if we don’t plan this carefully.”

Red couldn’t remember any of this. The whole night was a blur of anger and frustration and darkness.

She felt filthy and disgusting.

“Red?”

Breathing… easier.

Blinking and swallowing and cringing at that awful taste, Red managed to meet Snow’s eyes and give a croaky reply. “Uhh?”

“We’ll have to get you cleaned up and once we’re back at the inn, the fewer people that see us, the better.” Snow’s thumbs wiped at the streaked mess of tears and blood staining Red’s cheeks. “And you’ll have to try to keep Belle from noticing your wrists or your shoulder.”

“It…” Red swallowed, “I think it’ll heal enough by tonight.” The wrists and ankles would probably be normal in a few more hours. It was the silver-induced shoulder injury that would heal at a more dragging pace.

The thought of tonight being another nightmare without the cloak was terrifying.

“I’ll work on getting some chain for tonight,” Snow said, “And anything else we might be able to use that should hold stronger than last night’s rope. We should also find a spot even farther from the inn this time. Just in case you break lose again.”

Tonight was  _definitely_  going to be another nightmare.

“Red, we’ll get through this.” Snow brushed Red’s hair back in a gesture of reassurance, “We’ll be more prepared. We’ll take better precautions.” The way Snow was taking charge helped Red feel less lost and distressed. “We’ll figure it out.”

The certainty in Snow’s words were something to cling to and depend on for security.

Red just hoped that Snow was going to be right.

* * *

For the rest of that night, Belle had been restless and far too excited to get any sleep. Several hours were spent pouring over her map and her notes, writing down as thorough a description as she could recall of the wolf’s appearance and behavior, even attempting a vague sketch of its silhouette. Based on her research on typical wolves, this one was  _definitely_  much larger than the norm.

Another couple of hours was spent writing in-depth theories about the wolf possibly being someone’s familiar and theories of who might be the person behind the wolf’s actions and protection. The mysterious archer had to be someone sharing some deep connection with the wolf. Otherwise, how would he have been able to act at just the right moment to warn the wolf and then warn Belle and Renard to leave?

Belle also noted that there had been a familiar glint to the arrowheads, just before they hit the ground near her feet. They reminded her exactly of the kind of glint her own silver dagger held.

She didn’t have the time to pick the arrows up and inspect them to prove this, but Belle was almost sure that they had been silver-tipped.

Based on the story Belle had heard on her first  _conscious_ night at this inn, she also wrote one idea that revolved around the concept of a jealous lover who came between the blacksmith’s son and the girl. The jealous lover had the blacksmith’s son eliminated and took the girl with him.

If this were the case, then whether or not the girl was still alive was something Belle  _had_  to know.

Midday sunlight coming in through the sloppily slatted windows of her room roused Belle from the sleep she hadn’t been aware she’d taken.

The sight of daylight and the clear memories of the previous night sent a burst of energy charging through Belle’s body. She all but leapt out of bed, pulled on her boots, threw her cloak over her shoulders and strapped her dagger and belt about her hips.

When Belle charged out of her room, it had been with every intention of finding Renard and making plans with him to revisit the forest to inspect the wolf’s tracks and then make plans to go on another trek tonight.

Instead, Belle found herself running straight into Red, bumping into her and knocking her back a few steps.

A low, almost growled curse tumbled forth from Red’s mouth and she clutched at her shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Sorry!” Belle stepped back and was about to mumble a string of more apologies, but her mind came to a full, crashing stop when she took in Red’s appearance.

Though the clothes covering her looked fresh, and her skin itself seemed washed and clean, there were a number of scrapes and scratches along her arms and elbows, while several cuts riddled her face. And as Red nursed her shoulder before seeming to recover and straighten up, Belle noted discolored wrists.

What was most concerning though was the look to Red’s eyes.

They looked more tired and sad than Belle had ever seen them. Dark circles made them look deep and sunken while the whites were more pinkish red than actual white. The calming green Belle had grown accustomed to seeing was dull and almost grey.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine.” Red’s answer was clipped and agitated. She made to move past Belle.

“Wait!”

A sound somewhere between grumble and sigh escaped Red, then she turned around. The tired expression was still there, but the agitation was replaced with an attempted friendliness. “Sorry. How are you?”

“I…” Belle wanted to know how Red was, know what she spent all night doing, know why she looked so tired and why she was hurt and just _why couldn’t they be more honest with each other?_ If maybe Belle could just come clean about Rumple and Lord Maurice, then perhaps Red would be more honest about her own secrets.

“I’m planning to go tracking again.” It felt like a blow to her own gut, but Belle decided against pressing Red for personal information she clearly wasn’t willing to give. Time spent in Rumple’s castle had already taught Belle to know better than to press a person too hard when they seemed troubled. They might only lash out and send her away.

Red raised an eyebrow. “Do… do you want me to come with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Belle said, “I think I’m gaining a grasp of it. But I was wondering if you would like to go out with me tonight?”

“Go out with you?”

Well that came out a tad awkward.

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Belle brushed her hair back and tried again. “I mean to go and track the wolf in the forest? I was there with a friend last night and we actually saw it!”

Red seemed to grow paler.

“It was snarling and seemed angry, but out of nowhere, someone shot arrows to stop the wolf and then to warn us to leave it be.” Talking about it reminded Belle why she had been so excited and restless. “Can you imagine what this could mean? It proves that the wolf may be someone’s familiar or daemon or spirit animal. Terminology doesn’t matter, I just  _have_  to know more about the  _details_  about it. How does their connection work? How do they communicate? How does the wolf eliminate threats for their other half? Do they have a mind link or is it just something they feel? Is it a curse or is it magic they were born with?”

The more Belle spoke, it seemed the paler Red became.

“And it absolutely intrigues me how it seems as though this person is simultaneously protecting the wolf  _and_  people the wolf might attack.” Belle tried to restrain herself and slow down until she stopped at one more sentence. “And it makes me wonder about the previous victims- does it mean that they were purposely eliminated or was it because the connection between the wolf and its other half needed more time to mature?”

“Fascinating.” Red’s smile looked even more forced.

Belle felt like giving herself a kick for making Red so uncomfortable, but it was difficult to figure out what was bothering her so much about the wolf unless she might have actually  _encountered_  it?

It would be too convenient a coincidence though, wouldn’t it?

“So… would you like to come with me tonight?” Belle asked in a whisper, by now too at a loss, torn between her bursting fascination with the wolf and her pressing concern for this developing friendship. “I’m planning to ask my friend later if he wants to organize a small group.”

“Sure, whatever.” Red’s smile seemed almost painful as she stepped backwards until her hand fell upon the door to her room. “We’ll see what happens.”

Before Belle could say anything else, Red went in and closed the door behind her.

* * *

“Stupid!” Red cursed under her breath, rapping her knuckles against her own skull. “Stupid stupid  _stupid_! Damn it all!  _Why_  did I say that?”

Her knees were weak and trembling. Her hands were shaky. Her vision was watery and blurred. It was difficult to breathe again.

Red clawed at the door before sliding down it and collapsing on the floor.

She hated how weak she was. She hated how she had no control. She hated the wolf. She hated how it was part of her. She hated  _everything_!

Snarling and screaming in a blur of high-pitched noise, Red leaned backwards, heavily banging her back and head against the door. This was overwhelming and upsetting and distressing and awful and horrible and _bad_ and _why did Granny take so long to tell the truth?_

Where was Snow?

Snow could fix this. Snow could say things and make breathing easy again.

Why did Belle keep feeding Red with those dumb ideas of the wolf maybe being something that can be tamed? Why was she messing with Red’s head like that? Why was she being such a  _friend_?

“What is  _wrong_  with me?” Red dug her fingers into her hair and buried her face in her forearms.

Snow not being around right now wasn’t the problem.

Belle being her trusting, friendly self wasn’t the problem.

It didn’t require an established magician of wisdom to clarify who was the real problem here.

Red was scared and confused and at a complete and utter loss.

* * *

Night had fallen. The moon’s glow was made brilliant by its fullness. The cool air still held traces of the previous winter’s bite.

Suppressing a shudder, Belle adjusted the cloak about her shoulders, seeking warmth from it.

“Wot’s takin’ her so long?” The impatient question came from one of the inn’s regular patrons and acclaimed storytellers. A bow of very crude make was in his hands while a quiver of crooked arrows was slung over his shoulders.

“She’s coming.” Belle assured them. “She should be here soon.”

Or at least, Belle hoped so.

They were more prepared tonight.

Belle and Renard had decided that they stood better chances against the wolf if they brought along more help. More pairs of eyes would be able to keep a look out for the mysterious archer and perhaps a few of them could maintain the wolf’s attention while one or two could go around and try to see where the archer was shooting from.

They also had more silver this time. Belle had her own dagger while Renard had two of his own. The bulk of the afternoon had been spent making use of a blacksmith’s forge, Belle watching Renard set to work reinforcing the arrows and blades of their party with silver. The skill with which he worked had been both fascinating and impressive.

But it made Belle uncomfortable to see so many weapons in one place, all capable of doing harm to the wolf. She’d insisted time and again that they weren’t going to hurt the wolf unless absolutely necessary and they were to observe at a safe distance as much as possible.

The goal was simply to understand the wolf and talk to the archer.

They seemed agreeable enough to her conditions. A few even still had second thoughts about the little expedition. Belle could see them now, hovering at the back and exchanging glances as though they weren’t as excited as they thought they would be.

 _But where was Red_?

Belle fidgeted and looked up at the moon as though it would answer the question.

“We’re wastin’ moonlight here, lass.” There was a somber look to Renard as he patted her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. “I thinks we should get a move on soon, don’t you?”

Biting at her lip and looking away from the moon, Belle hesitated.

A significant part of her was hoping (almost  _praying_ ) that Red would come so that Belle could apologize for rambling so much and causing such an upset. Also to maybe understand what was bothering Red so much.

Red  _said_  she was going, didn’t she?

Belle felt awful about how the morning played out and this evening together (with several others) might have been something of a shared adventure to make up for it.

Guilt just welled up in the pit of Belle’s stomach the longer they waited and the more it seemed as though Red was not going to show up.

Sighing and ignoring the distinct feeling of worry that something terrible was going to happen, Belle at last nodded her agreement. “We should start while the night is young.”

Remembering the lessons she got from Red about tracking and observation, Belle led the way through the trees. At first it was with just the intention of retracing last night’s steps, but when they came upon a trail of disturbed foliage, Belle changed her course. There were some vague prints in the soil of a set of boots.

It wasn’t something she could be certain of, but Belle hoped it might be the tracks of the archer.

“Ye sure we’re goin’ the right way?” It was the storyteller again, impatient and irritable. “I ain’t seein’ no wolf prints nowheres.”

“It’s the right way.” Renard’s response was gruff and to the point, leaving no room for argument. Belle was taken aback by the conviction in the tone and posture. “Keep goin’, Belle.”

Touched by the faith he had in her, Belle nodded and continued forward.

The further they went, the more Belle seemed to hear sounds that were at first indistinguishable. As they drew closer, the sounds became recognizable as growling and whining.

Belle hesitated.

Looking over her shoulder, she noticed that the rest of the party also seemed uncertain. Renard’s brows were furrowed and his expression was unreadable. The Storyteller looked a tad more afraid than he was willing to admit.

“Shall we?” A scattering of hesitant nods was the response to her question.

Belle took a deep breath to brace herself before following the growling and whining sounds. The louder they got, the faster her heart beat- from a combination of both fear and excitement. It intrigued her as well that it didn’t sound like the wolf was moving and seemed to linger in one area.

Finally, Belle peered through a clump of bushes to find the wolf chained to a tree, struggling against its bindings.

Was this how the archer kept his wolf in control?

If it was, how must he have treated the girl? Was she even still alive?

What looked like an altered horse collar was around the wolf’s broad neck, and the chain linked to it was looped around the base of a tree. The chain was short, providing limited slack for the wolf, no doubt adding to its agitation.

Not daring to look behind her lest the hesitating men influence her courage, Belle made her way through the foliage and stepped into the clearing.

The wolf froze.

It snarled at first, hackles rising, muscles tensing.

A stray breeze blew past Belle from behind, bringing her scent towards the wolf.

The snarling stopped, and for a moment that Belle wasn’t sure was imagined or not, the wolf’s eyes flashed green.

But when the tracking party came in to join Belle in the clearing, the wolf’s eyes were yellow fires once again, burning and hateful and accompanied by ferocious snarls.

“That’s the wolf!” The Storyteller hooted, “Can’t believe the beast be right there! And it’s all chained up like the boy was all chained up in the story. ‘Tis perfect!”

A string of rumbling growls sounded like a warning. The wolf glared at them and tugged once again at its bindings.

“That pelt’s goin’ ter fetch us a right load of gold, boys!” Before Belle could take in what they were saying and stop them, the men began to aim their arrows at the wolf. Several shot forward and to Belle’s surprise, the wolf easily dodged them despite its restraints.

Growling ever louder, the wolf made several more mighty tugs against the chain until it was the collar around its throat that tore and broke. Once free, the wolf moved fast, lunging at them and going straight for the Storyteller.

Belle was thrown back in the flail of the wolf’s paws. She hit the ground, just barely breaking her fall with her palms.

A high-pitched yelp from the wolf made Belle’s heart skip a beat. From her position on the ground, she watched the wolf recoil and stumble away, blood welling up from a cut through its shoulder.

“Stay back!” Renard moved towards the wolf, its blood flashing on his blade.

The wolf growled and at first seemed about to charge, but instead it turned and fled.

“No!” Belle pushed herself back to her feet and tore after the wolf. “We didn’t mean to hurt you!” This was the  _last_  thing she wanted and she was angry at the tracking party for turning into a hunting party and she was worried about the wolf and she felt guilty about allowing this to escalate into such a mess and she just hated how this night was such a  _disaster_.

She barely registered the men behind her gathering around the Storyteller. Belle was focused on following the wolf’s clumsy, stumbling trail of broken foliage and kicked up dirt.

When she came upon the wolf again, it was lying behind some bushes. It noticed her and growled again.

The growls still made her heart beat with fear, but Belle swallowed and slowed her pace but continued her approach.

There seemed to be another flash of green for the briefest of moments, and the wolf’s ears pulled back, flattening against its skull. A sound somewhere between growl and whimper came out of the wolf’s mouth before it lowered its head.

Reading this as submissive behavior and nothing at all like a warning prior to attack, Belle drew closer, bending her knees as she went until she came to a stop in a crouching position before the wolf.

“I’m sorry,” Belle whispered, slowly moving her hand towards the wolf.

The wolf whimpered again and moved its head away.

Belle stopped her hand but held it in place, giving the wolf the choice of whether or not it wanted to be touched.

After another low whine, the wolf moved its head towards Belle. Her fingers just barely grazed its nose when a dagger flew in and buried itself deep into the wolf’s side.

Whatever connection they’d begun to form was broken and the wolf was feral again; it resumed snarling and snapping, fur bristling, tail straight out. Belle just barely managed to scramble back and avoid its jaws snapping a hair’s breadth away from her face.

Another dagger came in, digging into the wolf’s thigh, tearing its attention away from Belle so it could roar at its attacker.

Bringing herself up on shaky legs, Belle noticed it was Renard throwing the daggers and leading the party towards the wolf. It was thrashing and snarling, blood flowed from its wounds. With a sinking heart, Belle saw that though the wolf’s movements were frenzied, it seemed to be growing weaker.

“What is the matter with you?” Belle demanded, turning to Renard and marching towards him. “This isn’t what we discussed!”

“O’course it ain’t!” Renard moved his attention away from the wolf to snap at Belle, “That beast is a  _murderer_  and a  _liar_.”

“What?” Belle was taken aback by the change to the man she’d trusted with so much of her research. What did he know and why was he behaving so differently now? “What are you talking about? How can you know that? I thought we agreed-”

“There weren’t no way you’d believe it ‘till I shows it to ye.” Renard turned away from Belle then approached the weakened wolf. It had stopped its trashing and was now lying on the ground, panting and curling its bleeding limbs close to its body. “This  _wolf_  is a monster that got no place here.”

From the bag slung over his shoulder, Renard pulled out a red cloak. It couldn’t be mistaken as anything other than the one Belle knew Red had lost recently.

What did any of this mean?

“ _This_  is the reason why that lousy lying friend o’ yours never shown her face tonight.” Renard threw the cloak over the wolf.

Hardly able to believe her own eyes, Belle watched as the wolf’s shape shrunk into that of a woman.

Into  _Red_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ([repost from my tumblr](http://thestefidelly.tumblr.com/post/74435082729/haunted-8))
> 
> I’m kinda stuck with writing the next chapter so I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to update it, but I’ll try not to let it stretch out for more than two weeks. So yeah…

Nothing made sense.

Everything was wrong.

The sun wasn’t up yet. The full moon was still in the sky, mocking her with its power. Night was still clawing at her with its darkness.

 _And why was she bleeding_?

Groggy, disoriented, Red struggled to catch her breath and make sense of her surroundings.

 _Nothing_  made sense.

_And where was Snow?_

Getting arrows.

That’s right.

Scattered, disjointed memories of it were connecting themselves in Red’s jumbled mind. Snow said she had to go back for her arrows. Setting up the horse collar and chain had taken longer than they’d anticipated. The moon was already climbing.

Jarring pain in her side elicited a screech and made her arch her back then attempt to curl up, but a dagger at her throat discouraged further movement.

“Awake yet, Little Red?”

The familiar voice was enough to jolt Red back into the present.

She was pinned down and wearing nothing but the red cloak she was currently tangled up in. The stench of blood assaulted her senses. Though she knew most of it was hers, some of it belonged to someone else.

A gash was sliced through her shoulder, a stab wound was burning her side while a dagger was still protruding from her thigh. The tingling, burning pain of her wounds as well as the contact between her throat and the blade- all were definitely a sign that these people had silver and they knew what they were doing.

“Thought you could get away with what you done, did you?” The blade pressed harder against her throat, making swallowing all but impossible. “My boy trusted you.  _I_  trusted you. We all thought you were normal and… and  _human_  but you weren’t none of that!”

The pressure of the blade was filling Red with terror that froze her every muscle. Guilt stole her of any will to fight back.

Already, the dagger had begun to nick her skin, enveloping her throat with a hot, burning pain.

Too terrified to swallow, to even breathe, Red’s response was a croaky squeak. “I’m sorry!”

“ _Sorry_?” Renard’s face contorted into an expression mixing grief and rage. His knee dug further into Red’s injured shoulder, kicking the pain up several notches into agony, all the while maintaining the blade pressed against her throat. “A wee bit late for that, don’t you think?”

Red’s heart was beating so fast, she felt like it might leap right out of her exposed chest at any moment.

“This…” Renard’s grip on the dagger relaxed, but maintained its position as he turned to address the rest of his hunting party. “This  _monster_  is the reason my son and more than a score of the men of my village are done and dead! Your storyteller was right about how the blacksmith’s son was tied up when he were killed.”

The pressure against her throat was back, accompanied by more on her bleeding shoulder. “This bitch chained him up before she made a right meal out of him!”

“Kill the beast!” One of the men shouted, “It killed one of ours, it killed yours. It should be put down!” Grunts and cheers of agreement followed.

“Hear that?” Renard returned his attention to Red and she could see how the pain of Peter’s death still clutched at his heart, see the crippling agony it must have taken to bury the bloody remains of his very own son. “You’re a brutal animal and you gots to pay for what you done.”

Though terror almost made her want to beg for her life, guilt won over.

They were right.

They were all right.

They would all be doing the world a favor by eliminating such a dangerous, uncontrollable monster such as herself.

Red forcer her tense body to relax, pressing her head back against the soil to further expose her throat.

“Do it,” She whispered, “Please.”

* * *

“NO!” Belle’s scream echoed through the night. “ _WAIT_!”

She was standing just a few strides away from them, knees bent, hands outstretched, muscles tensed, body trembling.

“Wait?” Renard looked away from Red to glare at Belle. “You wants me to  _wait_?”

They barely knew each other. They kept many secrets from each other. They were virtual strangers. Belle couldn’t even be sure if she knew their real names.

But for the love of the gods, Belle couldn’t bear to stand by and watch Red being put down like a common dog.

It wasn’t  _right_.

Red  _saved_  Belle.

Red nursed Belle back to health.

How could Red possibly be the same monster they all spoke of?

_None of this made sense!_

“This monster  _murdered my son!”_ Renard raised his dagger. Belle’s heart skipped a beat. The dagger came down on Red’s already sliced shoulder, burying deep into her until the hilt, eliciting an agonized scream that made Belle’s skin crawl.

Breathing heavily, rage contorting his features, Renard stepped off of Red, leaving her to curl into herself and nurse her shoulder and thigh. The red cloak haphazardly covered her body, exposing more than concealing her. Its color stood out against the night, making the blood on her skin all the more obvious.

“And just this night, she rips open the throat of one of their own.” Renard’s vague gesture towards their party confirmed the question Belle hadn’t the courage to ask.

The wolf’s attack prior to fleeing resulted in the Storyteller’s death.

The wolf.

 _Red_.

“What could possibly be a good reason,” Renard drew close to Belle, invading her personal space and giving her a hard prod on the shoulder. “For us to let that demon live?”

Mind scrambling and just short of panicking, Belle spewed out the first thing that came to mind, “We should inform the queen’s guards. They’ll want to know that we caught a beast terrorizing the villages.” She hardly paused to breathe and swallow. Though her legs kept trembling and her back was beginning to ache from arching away from Renard, Belle kept talking, “I’m sure she’ll reward us for taking the initiative to maintain the peace and safety of the people.”

Renard’s furrowed brow didn’t relax and it was clear money was far from his mind. No monetary reward could possibly compensate for a father’s grief.

Glancing to the side, Belle saw that the rest of the men had varying reactions though. Some had eyes that gleamed at the very mention of a reward.

“Besides,” Belle added, hoping to appeal to Renard, “Killing the beast,” It was hard to say that without cringing because it went so deeply against her now conflicted feelings about the wolf and about Red. “Killing the beast would be too quick and merciful… right?”

Renard didn’t immediately object.

Another look at the other men showed a dangerous spark in their eyes. With a wrenching feeling of guilt, Belle also saw the clear fear and pain in Red’s.

This was not the night Belle had expected to encounter when she led a tracking party straight to the wolf.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ([reposted from my tumblr](http://thestefidelly.tumblr.com/post/75203763823/haunted-9))
> 
> lol after this chapter, I’m not 100% sure anymore about where things will go, but I’ll still try to get in another update this weekend if not next.

Cries of pain coming from the other end of the camp made Belle wince and squirm.

She knew that Red was there. Being taunted and abused without mercy.

Hugging herself, Belle cringed at a particularly drawn out scream, so full of agony and fear and helplessness. How any of them could bear to listen to this at length… to be able to _cause_  it… it was beyond Belle and she hated how it reminded her of the sounds of torture she used to hear coming from Rumple’s dungeon.

She couldn’t take anymore of this. She caused this and she couldn’t stand to let it get any worse than it already was.

Belle stood up and was about to tell the sadistic bastards to stop, but Renard came and stepped in her path, blocking her view of the men hurting Red.

“ _You_.” Renard roughly took Belle by the shoulder and half pushed, half dragged her to a tree, pinning her against it. “You’d better not be growing soft and feeling sorry for the wolf.”

Belle tried to squirm away, but Renard only increased the pressure on her shoulders, pressing her back against the rough bark. “The beast killed my son.  _Her own lover_.”

Avoiding eye contact with Renard, Belle could hardly think of an appropriate defense for those actions. The shock of this whole night still kept jarring her and she was still having trouble connecting the image of a snarling wolf with that of Red’s helpless, pained form right now.

“Nothing like that can be forgiven.” Renard continued, “And ifs I’d had my own way, I’d have cut her throat rightly open by now.”

Renard’s voice lowered to a near growl, “Instead, I gots to deal with those greedy bastards and their excitement for the queen’s treasure. How’s we supposed to know she’s really going to give us a reward?”

It was even harder to look Renard in the eye now.

“You made a right mess of all this.” He pointed a finger at her while his other hand increased pressure on her shoulder. “You better not be interfering no further.”

After delivering that warning, Renard released Belle and went back to his spot at the camp.

A low wail died in an awkward-sounding gurgle at the back of Belle’s throat. She ran her hands through her hair and tried to run through what her options were, but the mixed emotions all of this kept kicking up made rational thought difficult to process.

All she could focus on was concern and guilt related to Red, contrasting with betrayal and fear related to Renard.

 _How could this have happened_?

Belle still couldn’t grasp it because it just  _did not make any sense._

Something grabbed her cloak and before she could react or retaliate, Belle felt herself pulled back, now pinned to another tree, this time with the added measure of her own cloak digging into her throat, virtually tying her neck to the tree.

Grasping at her cloak in an attempt to loosen it, Belle only felt the cloak tighten further, then a voice whispered in her ear. “Cooperate and you’re allowed to breathe. Otherwise…” The cloak grew even tighter, more constricting, making her heart hammer hard against her chest.

“Yes, ma’am!” Belle croaked, clawing at the cloak to no avail.

“What do they plan to do to Red?”

Panic and fear were clouding Belle’s thoughts, but she drew enough sense from the rational part of her mind to recognize the voice as Mary’s.

The cloak loosened slightly, giving Belle enough air to be able to speak, but not enough to wriggle free.

“They’ve sent for Queen Regina’s guards,” Belle answered, gripping the cloak in an attempt to put more space between her neck and the constricting cloth. “They want a reward for capturing the infamous wolf.”

It grew tight again. Belle felt the back of her head digging into rough bark while her throat struggled with swallowing and tried to cough. “Then why do I hear her  _screaming_?”

“Where were you?” Belle avoided the question, “Why weren’t you there to protect her like last night?”

The cloak jerked back, no doubt bruising Belle’s throat and reminding her of Mary’s earlier warning. “ _I’m_  asking the questions here.”

“Some of them wanted to see how much of a difference silver makes in injuring her.” Belle’s answer came out in a rapid jumble of words and barely a pause for breath because she could hardly even inhale.

The answer earned her more constriction, less breathing space. “Who told them silver could harm the wolf?” Even tighter, “I know you have a silver dagger.”

“Didn’t-mean-for-it-“ Belle’s attempts to pull at the cloak were in vain and she felt her head start to spin. “-to-turn-out-like-this.”

“And whose idea was it to bring  _Regina_  into the picture?”

“Mine!” Belle’s voice was more of a cough than an actual word.

Her answers earned her some slack, but from the tone of Mary’s voice, Belle could guess that it was only because she needed to stay conscious for this interrogation to continue. If Mary didn’t need Belle’s answers, then this would be over by now and Belle would be passed out or dead.

“How many of them are there?”

“Seven including Renard.”

“ _Peter’s father_?” The cloak tightened more out of Mary’s shock than from lack of cooperation on Belle’s part.

“You knew him?”

There was silence for a moment.

Belle tried again at pulling at the cloak, as well as trying to squirm out of it, but Mary pulled it higher and tighter, trapping it just below Belle’s jaw, making it impossible to move her head.

“I was  _there_.” Mary said, then without clarifying, she went back to her interrogation. “Are all of them armed and experienced with fighting?”

“Renard’s a blacksmith but he seems to know his way with daggers. Two are archers and seem to know how to use their weapons for hunting. The rest carry their own knives or daggers but I’m not sure how familiar they are with them.”

“What’re the chances of you running off and warning them if I let you go right now?”

“I won’t.” Belle promised, “I didn’t mean for it to go this far and I’d give anything to be able to free Red right now.”

The cloak was tight again. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Who else  _can_  you trust?”

* * *

The men eventually grew tired of their game enough to leave her to drift away from the pain of consciousness. Exhaustion had her lying limp against the bars while exposure had her shivering under the red cloak, naked and bare and wishing for all the world that she could be back in the warmth of her grandmother’s embrace.

Licking her cracked and split lips, she imagined the fresh milk she used to be given at night, accompanied by a biscuit, all as a reward for being helpful with tending to the chickens and the livestock.

It had been such a betrayal when Red discovered that Granny knew about the wolf curse all along and insisted on keeping it from Red.

If Granny had been honest about it, maybe Red wouldn’t have insisted on tying Peter up.

Still, the fact remained that Red had been a vicious monster for still attacking Peter and tearing him to shreds when he was so defenseless, no doubt calling her name and pleading for mercy, or at least even a trace of recognition. None came because all the wolf saw was an easy meal.

Red shivered and winced at the pain caused by the smallest of movements.

She hated how just moments after finding out the truth, she had clothes thrust into her arms and immediately needed to flee from her Granny and her home and everything that was familiar since before she could even remember.

A hand touching her hair roused Red from her half-conscious stupor.

Fear piercing her heart, Red tried to jerk away from the touch, whimpering and recoiling. Pain laced through her wrenched shoulders and bound wrists.

“Red!” the whisper was urgent yet subdued, nothing like the boisterous laughter and heckling she’d been exposed to all evening. “It’s me!”

“ _You_.” The wolf in Red growled upon recognizing who it was, fully aware that she was in this position right now because this nosy little researcher wouldn’t just let things be.

Belle flinched at the growl, but persisted, grasping the bars of the cage-wagon and sticking her head through the gap. “I’m so sorry that things got so out of hand.”

Another growl was Red’s only answer.

The response seemed to jab at Belle, and she hesitated before moving on, “I’ve spoken to Mary and we have a plan to get you out.”

If she was still in her wolf form, Red’s ears would have swiveled to face Belle and show interest. Instead, Red just tilted her head towards Belle, though still maintaining a guarded, suspicious expression.

“She’ll give us a signal and I’ll get you out of this. She’ll handle the guards and keep them distracted while I get you out of the camp.”

Growing tired from keeping her head up to be able to look at Belle, Red lay back down and stared blankly at the opposite side of her prison. “Alright.” Her voice sounded low and rough from screaming.

There was a prolonged silence between them, one in which Red felt all the more conscious of her naked, bloody state, full of nicks and gashes and scrapes and stab wounds. A number were half-healed, while others were burning and felt infected.

Red also felt more aware of the scent of pigs and chickens surrounding her, telling her this was a wagon normally used to enclose and transport animals, which felt wrenchingly appropriate.

Another touch made Red wince, but she forced herself to relax and allow Belle to examine the makeshift cuffs. “Can you take them off?”

They were burning her wrists to a point where Red almost wished her hands would just fall off. She could feel sores and blisters erupting along the skin where the silver was touching, while open wounds were where the tightness of the restrains were cutting into her.

The cuffs were improvised from someone’s silver necklace, wrapped around her wrists and melted in place, keeping her not just trapped in a cage, but stuck in one corner and unable to move away from their daggers and knives. Her shoulders were already throbbing from being wrenched behind her and strained from her own thrashing.

“It’s going to hurt.” Belle warned, before setting to work trying to cut Red lose. It took a lot of prying and sawing and hacking and brute force to destroy the parts that had been melted together. The sounds of it almost awoke those sleeping nearby, and Belle had to yell obscenities at Red when the man standing watch turned to look at them.

Finally, the bindings came lose, though Belle had to pry some of the chain lose where the silver had burned and stuck to Red’s skin. It was a small discomfort to pay for finally having her wrists free and Red immediately pulled her hands in front of her to cradle them against her chest.

“Red, I am so sorry,” Belle whispered through the bars, “This was never what I wanted, believe me.”

Eyes watering of their own accord, Red covered her face and couldn’t truly believe those words. How could she when it was Belle who led these men straight towards Red? How could she when it was Belle’s suggestion to have Red caged like an animal to be shipped to Regina? How could she when it was Belle who all but hinted that torturing Red would be more appropriate than just killing her?

“Red… please…”

Voice still hoarse and throat still raw, Red answered in a voice more gruff than earlier. “Let’s concentrate on getting out.”

On cue, one of the guards fell with an arrow to his leg, drawing the attention of those nearby until they were all crowding around him and effectively distracted.

Belle took advantage of the distraction and moved quickly, unlocking the cage and helping Red clamber down from it.

It was difficult to stand and stay upright when her entire body felt like a throbbing mass of agony, but Red forced herself to persist, leaning heavily against Belle, trying not to let the red cloak tangle up her legs and affect her already limping walk.

As she tried to put weight on her left leg, it gave way without warning, buckling under Red and sending her straight to the ground, further adding bruises and scrapes to her already tortured skin.

“Red!” Belle’s whisper was urgent as she bent over Red before finally noticing the dagger still protruding from her thigh. The skin was red and raw and still bleeding and the smell coming off it was foul like an infection.

Red felt her eyes clouding over and the tempting embrace of sleep was difficult to resist.

“Hey!” That voice belonged to one of her torturers, “Over there!”

“Red, we have to move.” Belle took hold of Red’s arm, careful to avoid the ruined wrists and bleeding cuts. “Please, I know you can do it.” With Red’s arm over her shoulders, Belle strained to pull Red to her feet.

Through bleary eyes and a darkening vision, Red could see men starting to advance towards them until two fell with arrows in their legs. Unless she missed any other shots fired, there should be four more still.

The arrows seemed to deter their advance and one was fortunate enough to jump back before another arrow could come in and connect with his feet.

Biting her split lip to brace herself against the pain, Red leaned heavily against Belle and was half carried, half dragged another few steps forward.

“Hold it!” Renard’s voice came in through the trees before he stepped into the light of the fire, an arm restraining Snow, a dagger at her throat. “You’re not going anywhere, Little Red.”

The four remaining men were now surrounding them. The three injured ones were limping but upright.

Fear was a hot and sticky feeling at the back of Red’s throat, and a painful, pounding feeling in her chest.

Things were going to get worse.

They were and Red didn’t know how much more of this agony she could take.

And were they going to do the same to Snow?

One of the men seized a handful of her hood, grasping her hair along with it. With a rough, jerking movement, he wrenched her from Belle’s arms.

A howl filled the night air.

Taken aback, everyone froze in their tracks.

Emerging from the darkness of the trees, wolves flooded into the camp and descended upon the gang. Bristling fur and bared teeth flashed bright and orange against the firelight while ferocious snarls followed pained screams.

After the wolves came in, several men followed. One of them went straight towards Red, put his hands on her captor’s head and easily broke his neck with one twist.

Before Red’s legs could give way under her again, the stranger caught her and picked her up like she weighed nothing. “You will be safe with us, sister.” His whisper was almost soothing to her ears, and his eyes seemed to glow amber in the night.

Over her savior’s shoulder, Red saw the other strangers were shoving Belle and Snow to the side, pinning them against the wagon and growling at them.

“Friends,” was all Red could choke out, weakly pointing in their direction.

Noticing what she meant, the stranger carrying Red turned to address his fellows. “Bring them. It is for our Alpha to decide their fate.”

With Belle and Snow’s safety settled, Red could hardly maintain consciousness any longer.

There was just enough time for her to hear a voice state that one of the men escaped but they should be able to track him soon.

Then blackness finally pulled Red into its soothing, painless embrace.


End file.
